


I see you

by CrushedRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A psychopath has his eye on Greg, Angst, Developing Relationship, Gen, Greg catching the eye of a killer, Greg making trouble for himself, Greg-centric, M/M, Original Character(s), Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 38,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/pseuds/CrushedRose
Summary: Greg becomes the poster boy for the Yard, going around schools to talk about his job.  On such a trip he caught the eye of a true psychopath.Greg knew without a doubt this man is dangerous but no one beliefs him, until they had no choice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good day everybody! 
> 
> I wasn't planning posting a new story so soon, but it's 46 days before the new series and even though I'm not going to be able to watch it with the rest, I don't want to start something and then stop halfway through because of whatever may happen in the next series. 
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how often I'll be updating but it will definitely not be once a year.  
> The first three chapters is done, and I'm working on 4. 
> 
> As always. I hope you enjoy this new piece.  
> Much love.

** I See you **

**    **

** Chapter 1 **

Greg looked up and then back down to the pamphlet in his hand.  He read the lines and sentences again just to make sure he read it correctly the first time. 

_'Be part of the good side of the law.'_

No, still the same, he sighed inwardly as he looked up at the man staring at him, all smiles and triumphantly

"So what do you think Lestrade?" Greg nodded at the superintendent, a smile on his face as if he just discovered his boss was a genius and he needed to confirm. 

"Uum, is it supposed to be catchy?" Greg tried while keeping his face neutral, yet very interested.    The superintendent narrowed his eyes and grabbed the pamphlet out of Greg's hands. 

"Yes. Along with practical and efficient in helping the youth of today to see a more involved police force.   To inform them we are not the enemy." Greg nodded, pretending to be successfully reprimanded. 

"I'm sorry sir.  I'm sure it will be effective in its course."  The Sup nodded and waved the pamphlet as if a mini fan.  Why Greg wouldn't be able to tell you as the office was cool and comfortable, the air conditioning system working well.   He wet his lips before speaking, he have to get his question right without pissing his boss off.

"Sup, I understand that we have a new campaign for public awareness, I’m just not sure what I'm doing here.”

The sup gave him a fake and wide smile and Greg's stomach just gave a drop.  He does so not like where this is going.

"You are our face."

Greg mimics the brief confused look that Sherlock would get when Greg tries to offer him some social interaction advice.  

"I'm the what?"

"The face, people like you and trust you more, the old ladies think you're adorable, the women wants to sleep with you, and young girls think you're sexy, hell even the men look twice at you."

Greg mouth fell open, he is not some BBC TV Adonis, and he is a cop, a detective for crying out loud.

"Excuse me sir?"

"You heard me.  So I've volunteered you to go with a select team and go around schools and varsities to get the Yard some positive PR."

"With all due respect sir, I'm not here to get good publicity, my job is to put bad guys away."  Greg replied, already pulling his face in distaste.  To his surprised the Sup’s face become wider with the smiles and Greg had a momentary image of that small child in Charlie and the Chocolate factory who nearly drowned in the chocolate river. 

"That's good Lestrade, keep the attitude like that, the people will love that, humble and modest.  Knew you’re the man for the job.  If all of this go well, you might just find yourself with a Christmas bonus"  Greg stared at the boss.

"Erm... what?"

"Listen Lestrade I don't have time for this, tomorrow morning at eight there is the meeting in the boardroom, that will explain everything you need to do and also provide you with a roster as to your appointments with which school and Varsity." With that the Sup practically chases him out of the office.  Greg was still stunned when he got back to his office.   He needed a second opinion.  He just had no idea who to ask.  Sherlock?  Oh God no.  John?  No he'll tell Sherlock and then he'll know... Sally?  No it might be seen as harassment and she will not be honest.  Making it all a joke.  Mycroft?  Well they have been expanding their relationship from friends to a little more than friends.   The relationship may be in its early stages but Greg knew it was serious and both were in for the long haul.

Still he can't ask Mycroft whether he was sexy enough for a PR campaign

On the other hand, Mycroft is his best friend and have always been honest with him.

Before he knew it he had the phone in his hand.  It rang twice before Mycroft answered. 

"Good afternoon Detective Inspector." Greg visibly relaxed as he let Mycroft's voice flow over him.

"Hi My, how's your day going?"

"Oh an endless loop of meetings and so forth."

"Doubt as interesting as the meeting I just had."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, that's actually one of the reasons I'm calling, um....do you think.....would you..... if you were to have  PR...... umm."  Greg faltered as he was unable to get the words out, instead he just leaned over his desk, slighty bumping his forehead on the desk, it only made a soft thud sound, anything harder and he might give himself a headache.  The line was silent and he could hear Mycroft clearing his throat before he spoke.

"That was quite something else, you know I'm good but I'm not that good." Mycroft said, his voice laced with amusement.   Greg laughed softly

"Yeah that wasn't one of my best explanations."

"Would you like to try again?"

"I'm not sure.   It's a bit of personal and we are new in this relationship, and as much as I trust you and value your opinion..."

"Gregory out with it."

"Do you think I'm sexy enough for a PR campaign?"

Greg sputtered out.   The line was quiet.

"Mycroft?"

"You're asking me if you're -let me get this right 'sexy' enough?" Mycroft voice pitched when he said sexy and Greg couldn’t stop laughing softly; only a Holmes can make words like that sound like a potion.  He still remembered Mycroft’s face when he said they should go on a date.

"In a nutshell."  Greg responded. 

"May I ask why?" 

"It's a long story."

"Want to tell me over dinner tonight?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you later then."

"Definitely."  Greg put the receiver down with a smile.   His day has just improved by a lot.  Barring any gruesome murders he might just have a reasonable average day. 

 

 

Greg made it home just after six and knowing how punctual Mycroft is, he was just about ready when the car picked him up. Instead of a restaurant they had dinner at Mycroft's place,  Greg preferred it as it gives him the opportunity to not only spent personal and intimate time with Mycroft,  he also get to see Mycroft slowly removing his mask, one layer at a time. 

"So Gregory care to elaborate on this morning’s phone call?  I must admit, I’m quite curious as ‘sexy’ is apparently a part of your job requirements." Mycroft was treated to a delightful scene when Greg blushed furiously and looked down at his food.  He didn’t answer. 

"Do I need to drag it out of you?" Greg shook his head before taking a sip of the wine and looked at Mycroft. 

"We have a new PR campaign, and the goal is to be more approachable and people oriented. 

"To build a better relationship with the public?" Mycroft asked and Greg nodded.

"Yeah so my boss thinks that I am the perfect candidate to go around schools and varsities to promote the Yard."

"The poster boy."

"Something like that.   Apparently my face is better than goldilocks and the three bears, as it appeals to all ages."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yeah, old ladies thinks I'm adorable, women wants to sleep with me, young girls think I'm sexy for my age and even men look twice.  Apparently."  Greg recited while looking over Mycroft's shoulder. 

Mycroft used a full minute to process the information and think of a suitable response.  If only Greg knew, his mind trying to understand how a man like Greg had absolutely no idea just what an impact he has on people around him, and not just his looks.  Greg has the ability to put people at ease, to calm them.  It’s one of the reasons he has such love and admiration for the man, how he makes Mycroft feel okay about being himself. 

"I can see the logistics of it, after all you're basically the only one my brother trust."

"Yeah, but he didn’t have to make me sound like some Hollywood star,  I just want to do my job and when I told him that he was like  "keep the attitude,  humble and modest."  Idiot." He added as an afterthought.   Mycroft smiled, wondering if he should tell Greg he just sounded like Sherlock.  He could see the appeal, Greg is a wonderful in every way, and they choose wisely with a man like Greg. 

"Gregory, I think they made an excellent choice in you." Greg looked at him, his face opened and genuine.

"You think so?"

"Yes. You are very good at your job, you are loyal, compassionate, dedicated, faithful, hardworking, and honest, you have integrity, you are tenacious, if you'd like I can give you a list."

"A list?" Greg asked shyly.   Mycroft sighed, ‘doesn’t this man have any idea about his worth?'

"Yes.  Do you want it alphabetically or chronologically?" Greg blushed and looked away. They ate the rest of their dinner an easy and light conversation. 

Greg insisted on helping Mycroft clean up the kitchen before they do anything else. 

“I have a dishwasher Gregory." Mycroft remarked, exasperation all over his face, Greg gave him a boyish grin as he washed the plate.

"I know, but this allows us the time to be together and some quality time together."

"I can think of better ways to spend time together." Mycroft’s dry voice filtered through the air. Greg chuckled at the man.

"Get your head out of the gutter." Mycroft pulled a face and tried to look affronted, which caused Greg to laugh even harder.  

"Gregory......"  Mycroft tried in vain to reprimand Greg.  He didn’t even notice that Greg was done until he saw him pulled out the plug.  

"There all done."

"Can we go do something else now?"

"What did you have in mind?" Mycroft half throw the dishcloth on the counter before he pulled Greg close.

"Not washing dishes I can guarantee you that." Greg allowed himself to be pushed against the counter as Mycroft’s arms encircled him in a private bubble.  This is the moment Greg loves, when he is the sole focus of Mycroft Holmes and the looks at him as if he is the only man in the world.  He can relate and felt exactly the same.  He tilted his neck to give Mycroft more access as the man clearly had some fascination with his neck. His entire body to be precise but the first kiss, besides his mouth is his pulse point in his neck. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**I see you**

**Chapter 2**

 

Mycroft dropped Greg off at his place an hour before he had to get to work, this would allow him to quickly change into a fresh set of clothes.  As Mycroft drove away he had a fleeting moment where he imagined Greg to live with him, that way they can spend more time together and instead of getting up earlier to drop him off, they could stay in bed a bit longer.

Unbeknownst to Mycroft’s thoughts Greg was smiling as he quickly got dressed and ready for work.   He had to be at the office at eight for his meeting or debriefing about this PR campaign.   He was real glad he had an opportunity to speak to Mycroft about it as he feels better for it now than he did yesterday.  

Still, he finds it a bit hard to believe that he was going to be a public face for the Yard, considering how he hated press conferences as a norm. He has built up quite a reputation for his feelings for the newspapers, the Daily Mail in particular.  

Well there's no need to get stuck on the negative and bad, he had to focus now on the new assignment.   The Yard's ‘Poster boy’.  He groaned inwardly, his morning started so well, and now in less than an hour, left to his own devices he has gone and ruined it.

 

With nerves rising from calm to frantic he made his way to the briefing room.  As he made his way inside he calmed somewhat seeing that the superintendent weren't there, just the department's PR group.   Over the years he has come to know Cecile quite well, but she's been here for years, some of the new people he didn't knew too well.  

"Good morning." He greeted as he sat down and poured himself of the coffee on the table.   It was good stuff and he wasn't going to pass the moment to have some.

"Good morning detective, I trust you know why you are here?" Cecile asked with an easy smile, she and Greg always got along.   He smiled briefly.

"I'm to understand I'm the new poster boy for some campaign."

"That's correct; in recent months we've done some intensive research and surveys of the public image of Scotland Yard and how the public sees the institution.  A friend or foe so to speak.  Now 'poster boy' wouldn't be the exact term I'd use but I guess the bottom line is the same."  As Cecile was explaining she was spreading a variety of papers on the desk.  Some had a hashtag in front of them and he read about tweets and the more he saw the more confused he became.  'What exactly is expected of him?’

"Cecile, where do I come in?" Greg asked as he picked up one page.   The Scotland Yard logo was on top with the words  _"we can improve, tell us how #abetteryard"_

"This is wrong, there are no spaces between the words and why the hash mark? That's not grammatical correct." He could hear the groans of the younger colleagues around the table and felt old.  Cecile smiled in a soft way, reminding him of a mom who’s trying her patience on a difficult child.

"It's called hash tagging, it acts like a link to connect on social media.   We monitor every time this hashtag is used and that would help us with improving the Yard's image."

Greg just nodded, wondering if he can start a #teachsherlockmanners one. The amusement on his face must have been taken as a good sign because they all smiled and continued. 

"So what exactly do you need me to do?" He tried again.  Cecile handed him a roster and a memo.

"You're one of the top detectives at the Yard and were chosen because you received 50% or more positive feedback than any of the other detectives here.   You're solve rate is one of the highest and your ethics are of the highest regard, this is why we want you to interact with people.  For the next couple of weeks we are going to a certain area in London and the surrounding areas to a school, and several tertiary institutions. Once there you will talk about your job and the troubles and challenges you face every day, you'll explain police procedures and the reasons why it can take time. Basically you’ll give the reality version instead of the TV version." Greg stared.  

They want him to go to schools,  pretend his job is some kind of product and service,  waste his time on the bureaucracy of it all while he gets behind in his job, his real job? And as for challenges he has a list

1\. Sherlock

2\. Sherlock

3\. Never-ending paperwork

4\. This assignment and

5\. Sherlock for another good measure.

"For how long will I be required to do this?  And who will stand in for me if I need to go to a crime scene?"

"Detective Dimmock- but only as a last resort.”  Cécile stated her eyes focus on Greg.   He sighed inwardly, knowing there's no way out of this. 

"When is my first day?"

"It's on the roster."  One of the young men spoke up and Greg just gave him a look which quickly shut him up. 

Cecile handed him his roster.

"Tomorrow at twelve, at the University of London.  You'll meet one of the HR department representatives a Tallulah Lambeth; she will escort you for the day."

Greg’s eyes flashed for a moment, he recognised that name but didn't say anything.   He just nodded and listened to all they had to say before he left to hopefully do the job he actually gets paid for. 

Once in his office he quickly typed in Tallulah’s name. Seeing the results he sat back down in his chair, his hand running through his hair.  

He was still in thought when his phone rang. 

"Lestrade?"  He greeted automatically without looking at the screen. 

"Day not going well?"  The voice asked and Greg smiled.

"Hi My.  its okay and yours?"

"Just left one boring meeting to go to the next."

"Remember to have some lunch okay?"

"I do know how to take care of myself you know?”

"I don't doubt it."  Greg looked at the screen in front of him. 

"Listen My, can you come over tonight?"

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah. I just miss you and would like to be with you."

"I'll be over, around eight?"

“That’s perfect.  See you later.”

If there's one thing he learned from past experiences is that communication is vital for a successful relationship, and he want to tell Mycroft everything. 

 

Mycroft arrived at eight on the dot and to his surprise instead of ordering food Greg had made dinner.   A light dinner with grilled fish, green salad and cottage cheese with croutons.  

"This is a surprise." He greeted as he stepped into the kitchen, Greg’s place was small and had a kitchen table built in at one corner.   Greg had wine out, and there was soft music playing.  Greg smiled broadly and pulled Mycroft close, kissing him instead of replying.  

"Are you trying to distract me Gregory?" Mycroft mumbled through kisses. Greg let go and laughed. 

"No, I'm just really happy to see you, hope you're hungry, after all you did skip a proper lunch." Mycroft face revealed his surprise. 

"How did you know?"

"I know you. Come on let's eat."

Dinner was relaxed and happy conversation light and easy going.   After dinner and clean up they made their way to the living room. 

"Can you stay?" Greg asked as he pulled Mycroft close. 

"Yes, but have to leave early."

"Okay." Mycroft could feel there was something on his mind, and he didn’t know exactly how to start, knowing it had something to do with this new campaign.  His eye caught the pamphlet and roster on the coffee table and he walked over to pick it up.

"Is this your schedule for the schools?"

Greg half sit half fell into the sofa his arm automatically pulling Mycroft close that he just smiled and made himself comfortable next Greg.  He would never admit how he loves the way Greg just wanted him close and able to touch him. He wasn’t use to it, and for some reason he found it quite troublesome how quickly he warmed to it.  Already missing the contact when it wasn’t there. 

"Yeah, starting tomorrow, that paper there is the subjects and topics I'm allowed to discuss." Mycroft thought it was a good thing that he was so smart, because Greg would just go 'that paper there’ or ‘that cushion ' or something like that without pointing in a direction.  Like now, he was holding a stack of papers and apparently one is a safe topic list.  Shaking his head lightly he just smiled and continued reading.

Greg waited till he was done before speaking. 

"My?"

"Hmm."

"How far did your background check on me go?" Mycroft didn't expect that question and quickly turned to Greg.

"Excuse me?”

"The background check you did on me, how far did it go?" Mycroft wanted to ask him what makes him think he did one but the look Greg gave him shut him up. 

"All the way to your childhood, it was broad but not in depth."

"So every girlfriend or boyfriend isn’t mentioned?"

"No, just that you had them."  Mycroft shifted in his seat so he could look at Greg. 

"Gregory is there a reason you ask?"

"Yeah.  I want you to know, it doesn't mean anything but I still want you to know."

"Know what?”

"The woman I'm meeting tomorrow from the varsity, Tallulah Lambeth we had a brief relationship back in the day, in college.  We we're in the same college.   I was two years older than her, but we dated for a year I think." Mycroft first thought was how fast he can have her deported; the second part was why Greg is telling him, wondering if he still has feelings for her.

Before he could answer however Greg went on.

"I'm telling you because I want you know, and not think that I am keeping it from you.  I haven't had any contact with her since college, and I doubt she'll remember me I just wanted you to know." Mycroft looked at Greg in amazement.  This man was surely a marvel.  

"You're telling me this for the sole purpose of not keeping anything from me?"

"Yeah.  You know how I feel about you, and I don't want you to think I'm keeping anything away from you." Greg saw the emotions across his face and that he never expected something like this.  

"Thank you. Gregory.  This really means a lot to me."

"You're welcome, so do you want to watch the late night news or do you think we can go keep ourselves busy in another room?"

Mycroft tilted his head as if in deep thought. 

"Well the news certainly has some advantages, I’d like to get their version of the current Chinese export changes, but depending on the others activities I might be convinced."

"Arse." Greg replied smiling as he got up and dragged Mycroft with him to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as they go. Mycroft just smiled as he allowed Greg to take him to bed. 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

I see you

Chapter 3

 

Greg was just a teeny bit nervous as he met Tallulah the next morning.   He hasn't seen her since his teenager’s years, and that was more than 30 years ago.  He wondered how her life turned out.   The files he checked on her he just confirmed that it was indeed her and didn't read her background, then again he can always asked his partner who most assuredly by now has her entire history memorised.   Not out of jealousy you know - just as an interesting party. 

"Greg!" He turned to the excited voice calling for him Tallulah Lambeth was tall, beautiful and breath-taking.  She was wearing sensible heels, with black trousers and crisp white shirt with long, wide cuffs and lapels.  Her hair was rolled up in a French bun and only here and there small streaks of grey could be seen.

"Oh wow, Tallulah how have you been?" Greg greeted back as he gave her a hug.

"Oh good and you?"

"I'm great, a lot greyer than you."

"Well you do have a more stressful job."

"That's true." 

As they walked to the class they briefly caught up on each other lives, he found out that she was married until five years ago  her husband died in a car accident and both her children was all grown up and studying in Cambridge.  He told her about his job, divorce and his new partner. 

"Yeah I read about some of your cases, the ones that make it to the newspapers at least."

"Yeah, don’t do so well with reporters."

"You were always a handful."

"Oi.  I wasn’t."

"I remember a rocker with his guitar and bike dreaming of becoming a rock star."

"I was good."

"And now you're an officer of the law."  Greg didn’t reply as he went inside the classroom.

 

The lecturer was a Mr. Barkley that had some clear opinions about this idea.  Greg didn’t blame him.  Barkley was a no nonsense old school professor who believed more in textbooks and routine than an open minded way of teaching. As for classes went, it took Greg a few minutes before he was comfortable enough to properly enjoy the class.  They've discussed everything on the agenda and the students were participating with the proceedings.  

There was only one problem though. There was one student who gave Greg the shivers. It made him uncomfortable and put him on edge.   Problem was, it was also the student who was most active. 

He was young, middle to late twenties, the late teenage, early twenty arrogance was gone, and he looked confident, secure and just a little weird.   Although he was older than most of the students his youthful appearance fitted in perfectly. 

The worse part was that Greg instantly hated him, yet it was clear that he was much loved by his class mates.  Fortunately Greg had been around the block and knows how to school his features, unless there was a Holmes present, but there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind telling him that he just became an open book to this man.

He had about five minutes left before the class was finished and as in nearly all instances it was open for questions.   The part Greg hated more than any.

The man waited till the time was nearly finished before he raised his hand.

Greg looked at him, his gut feeling working overtime.

"Inspector, the latest statistics show that we on an average walk past no less than seven psychopaths a day, the statistics for sociopaths are higher, does that influence your work?"

"In what way?"

"Are you more sceptic when meeting people, especially at a crime scene or talking to potential suspects?"

"No. I treat them all fairly, until the evidence is clear and conclusive."

"Does that mean you don't have a suspicion off people at all and rely on evidence alone?  That doesn't really fill one with confidence about our judicial system." He gave a small chuckle as if he just revealed a punchline in a sitcom.  Greg’s hair on his neck and arms were near static with the rush to stand on edge.   This man was dangerous, he had no proof, yet everything in him declared it.

"I may have certain thoughts about a person, but I can't let it interfere with my job, or the crime, that would make me bias and unable to do my job properly."

"That may be true but if the statistics is correct that means in this room of 27 there are already 3 psychopaths, we just need one more person then it would be four, however if we add you Inspector it would be 4." Greg could see he had the attention of the whole class and they considered this statement more entertaining than anything he has said.  He looked the man in the eye. 

"Do you think there are four psychopaths in this room?" He asked as neutral as possible.   The class shifted and all attention was on them, they looked at him and then to the student. He gave Greg his most predatory smile.

"Maybe not four, but I think we can safely assume at least one."

The class burst out laughing, except for Greg and the man.  He sat back in enjoyed the obvious show his little statement has made.  Greg felt his insides turned to dread and every alarm bell in his mind going off at once.   This man not only confessed to being a psychopath, he may either already be a killer or is on his way to become one. 

As soon as the class settled down Mr. Barkley dismissed the class, leaving the three standing in front.  The man however took his time leaving, his eyes focused on Greg as he made his way out.  Greg stared back his posture rigid and his eyes focused.  He waited till everyone left before he turned to Barkley.

“Who is that?”  He asked his voice strong and factual.  Mr. Barkley turned around and waved his arm as he moved to get his stuff.

“A Mr. Cleverly, Duncan Cleverly.  The best student in the class.”  Greg followed him to his desk as he also got his stuff together.

“What is his story?”  He asked.  Making it clear that he intends to find out everything he can about this man.

“This is his second degree, his first is in Psychology and his interest is criminal psychology.  He is very bright, very calculated in his questions and studies.  As you can see the class loves him.”  Barkley said as they moved to the exit.  Greg following behind.

“What is your opinion?” 

“I find him smart, educated, well-informed of the latest statistics and easy to work with.” Greg leaned in closer, forgetting all about Tallulah in the background.

“I sense a ‘but’ Mr. Barkley.”    He turned to Greg and stopped, looking around.

“I can see why you made detective.”

Greg didn’t reply just waited for him to answer.

“If you must know, I find Mr. Cleverley difficult to grasp, he does everything right, yet, there’s something underneath the surface. It’s there but you can’t name it.”

“Not without proof.” Greg mumbled.

“Excuse me?”  Mr. Barkley asked confused.  Greg just smiled reassuringly and shook his hand.

“Oh it’s nothing, just an old copper, I do thank you for your time Mr. Barkley.” 

“You too Detective.” With a nod in Tallulah’s direction he walked back to his office.  Greg watched him go, until Tallulah grabbed his arm.

“What the hell was that about?”

“What?”

“Without proof?  What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing, but doesn’t he give you some weird vibes?”

“Duncan is a good student, he’s compassionate, emphatic and a good listener, and he certainly isn’t one of your back alley shady crooks.”  Greg stepped back, his face angry.

“First of all, most of the criminals I encounter is everything but back alley crooks, second of all, isn’t there some rule about dating a student?’

“I’m not dating him.” Tallulah retorted, her body defensive.  Greg saw right through it.

“Calling him on his name, listing all this positive intimate details and defending him, it’s clear as daylight you’re seeing him in an intimate way, so not dating, what just a friend-with-benefits?”

“You have no right.” 

“I have every right Tallulah.  You might not see it, but I do, and so does Barkley, there’s something about Duncan.”

“You’re speculating.”

“And you’re delusional.”

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit, still a stubborn and paranoid idiot.”

“And you still only see what you want to.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You never once showed interest in me, the real me; you just wanted the rocker with the guitar.”

“I don’t have time for this; I think you can see yourself out.” Without glancing back she left him in the corridor walking away.  Greg took a deep breath and made his way to his car.  The fight with Tallulah already on the backburner, his focus on Duncan.  He is going to run a background check.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**I See you**

 

**Chapter 4**

 

 

Ignoring everyone the moment he got to the Yard he made a straight line to his office.  He could see everyone wanted to talk to him, ask him about the class but he had other things on his mind.  Duncan Cleverly, everything he hears that name, his body would froze for a moment.  Sitting down he typed in his name in the search engine.  The more he searched the more his body filled with dread.  There was nothing.  Not a single thing.  It gives his birthday, the schools he attended, but beyond that, the man was clean. 

Duncan was 27 years old, have a degree in Psychology with doing his honours in Criminal Psychology. 

Greg didn’t made Detective because he kissed arse, he was actually good, and dug a little deeper.  There were two incidents, both unrelated but Greg was sure that it was important.  When Duncan was five years old he witness a drowning.  He was on holiday with parents at Brighton and a young woman died.  The thing was everyone on the beach and pier saw what had happened.  Seeing something like that could really make an impact on a five year old boy.

The second thing was seven years ago, when he just started university one of the girls in his circle of friends disappeared.  She is still missing.  Greg would bet his entire month’s salary that Duncan was responsible for that.   He may not have proof, but he knew without a doubt. 

After he searched everything he could find on Duncan he opened his saved pages on Psychology, the page saved on psychopathy and sociopathy.  He highlighted a few key factors on psychopathy:

 

-          Antisocial personality disorder

-          Lack empathy

-          Disregard social rules and behaviour standards

-          Fail to feel remorse of guilt

-          Violent

-          Likely to be educated

-          Controlled behaviour

-          Highly manipulative

 

If this was a draw characteristic to your suspect he would draw a line to Duncan.  It fitted him.  The problem was now, how he should go about to catch him?

If he is linked to one missing girl, could it be possible that he is linked to other?

The question is, will his hunting ground be where he lives, or will he choose a different area?  Most of the times they stay close to home, areas that is convenient and easy accessible.  The best place to start is the university.  Looking around he opened the search engine and typed in the necessary information.

“Oh.  Damn.” He exclaimed.

There were currently twenty missing persons in the last ten years; he would need to narrow it down.  It is not a strange occurrence for a student to just pack up and leave or decide on a little impromptu holiday.  First step to eliminate was to uncheck the years before Duncan went to the University.  The result was thirteen. 

“Much better.”

Next was to uncheck the males.

“Eight.”

The original girl in his circle Cindy Peterson was on the list, and that’s when the similarities become clear.  She had a tanned skin, nearly olive, brown eyes with short to medium length brown hair.  Using those parameters he narrowed his searched further.

“Five.” Including Cindy  He sat back in his chair, taking a deep breath as he stared at the women on the screen, all brown eyed, brunettes, all tanned.  You didn’t need to be a Holmes to figure out there was a pattern.  This was no coincidence.  They were all from different faculties, more or less one year apart.   They were last seen at a restaurant or café and then they disappeared. 

He ran his hand over his face, all this strengthens his mind that Duncan is responsible, but he can’t take it too is boss or team, because this is just circumstantial, they will never heed attention to this. He needs more proof.  If only he can find proof that Duncan was the last person to see them.  Greg sat up straight. If the restaurants or café has CCTV he can check those days. 

With a sight he sat back again, there’s no way they will sign off on a request to access those cameras with just a hunch.

“Well his boss wont.”  Greg mumbled, wondering exactly how he can convince Mycroft to look into that for him.  It’s a chance he just has to take.  Printing all the necessary information, with the missing girls and every form he could think off, he placed it together in a file.  He will take it home today and work on it some more.

He spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on his paperwork, his mind still focused on Duncan and the missing girls.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

** I see you **

** Chapter 5 **

By the time he could finally go home he was tired of thinking about what to do next.  He started to feel that he might finally know how Sherlock feels most of the time.  Knowing something and yet unable to do something about it.   The little voice of proof and evidence was giving him a headache and he didn’t know how to deal with that. In the end he just went home and spread the papers out in his spare room.  He taped the photos against the wall and even in his study the proof was there.  Duncan has a preference for certain girls and it was clear to see he is involved somehow. 

He needed to do something, what that exactly is, he wasn’t sure yet.  Forcing it out of his mind he started preparing for the next class, this time it is at a high school, so hopefully it will go better.  He was nearly finished with preparing when there was a knock on his door.  His face lit up when he opened the door to Mycroft. 

"I'm sorry for coming unannounced."  Mycroft tried apologetically but Greg just pulled him close for a kiss.

"I'm really glad to see you, and you're welcome anytime.  You don’t need an invite, you know."  He explained as he led the way inside. Mycroft followed him towards the kitchen where Greg is busy filling the kettle.

"I know.  I just wanted to know how your first day went with this PR campaign."

"Uum.  Not so bad." Greg tried but it was clear in the way he shifted his shoulders that there was something on his mind.  Mycroft saw the tension in his neck, the moment if hesitation before he answered.   Something was wrong. 

"What does that mean? What happened?" He asked as he stepped closer, not bothering to sit down. 

Greg took out the mugs before answering. 

"Overall it went well.  I didn’t stumble over my words or made an ass out of myself so bonus points there.   The students listened and asked questions so yeah I think it went as expected."

"Did you meet Tallulah again?" Mycroft really didn’t want to ask about Greg's old lovers not after he did his own background check and saw that she was still very attractive for her age, and single, although he suspects she is having a relationship with a student.   Either way it doesn't matter as Greg won't cheat on him even though their relationship is in the beginning stages.

"Yeah, and had a row with her before the day end as well." Greg replied as he made the tea and handed it to Mycroft before they made the way to the living room. 

"A fight?"

"Yeah.  We started out good and then something happened and it went downhill."

"What happened?" Mycroft sat close to Greg on the sofa both of them twisted so that they could look at each other.  Greg took a few sips and Mycroft knew he was trying to think of a way to say what's bothering him.

"My?" He began hesitantly.

"Yes?" Mycroft put the tea down so could Greg all his attention. 

"If I tell you I know one of the students today was a psychopath who killed a few girls would you believe me, even though I have no proof, just a hunch?" Mycroft was so glad he put the tea down because he surely would have spilled it.  That was the last thing he expected out of Greg's mouth was that. He searched Greg's eyes and saw the conviction, he was convinced beyond a doubt that he was on to something. 

"A murderer in the classroom?" Mycroft clarified.  Greg nodded.

"Saying it like that sounds like a BBC TV movie or a novel, however that is accurate." 

"Tell me everything if you don't mind." Mycroft demanded as he finished his tea.

"Well the short version is that there's this man, Duncan Cleverly, a few years older than the rest, has a Psychology degree, and now he is doing his criminal psychology degree."

"And you think he is a psychopath and a serial killer?" Mycroft suspects this kind of behaviour and attitude from Sherlock and not from Greg, he was a little unsure of how to handle it without the whole story.

"I know so." Greg stated.

"What made your mind up?"

"Firstly he would give me these looks, and it gives me Goosebumps, it raises the hair on my neck. Secondly he knew exactly what to ask and how to ask to get the attention of the whole class.   Asked me if I'm prejudicial in my cases or interrogation."

"You're not." Mycroft interrupted.

"I know, and then he stated a few psychopathic facts"

"Like?"

"That every one in nine people are a psychopath and then he said that meant there were three in the class and with me four." Mycroft stared at Greg that is certainly one way to get attention, Greg was right, just hearing about the man make him uneasy. 

"What did you say to that?"

"I looked him straight in the eye and asked whether he thinks there were four psychopaths in the class? He responded by saying maybe not four, but definitely one."

"Oh."

"That's pretty much a confession right there!" Greg cried out.   His face serious and his eyes burning.   Mycroft had to admit, that is something else. 

"What happened then?"

"The class was over and every one left, I found out what I could from his lecturer.  Even he finds Duncan different. Says he’s brilliant, the best in class but can't get a hold on the man, thinks there's something odd, he is the perfect student, the perfect classmate but still it feels like there's something burning underneath." 

It was quiet while Mycroft processed all Greg said, already making mental notes to do his own background check on Mr. Cleverley.   Greg is no fool, and the chances are that if Greg has a hunch there is something to it.   He turned back to Greg and noticed Greg was looking at him intently, clearly there is something else on his mind.  

"What is it Gregory?"  Mycroft asked and saw how Greg smiled.   He can read that man like a book. 

"Aren’t you going to ask me how I'm so sure, especially the serial killer part?" Mycroft could slap himself that should've been his first question. 

"How are you so sure? Is there people missing?" Greg smile got wider.  

"After I came back to the office I did a bit of research."

"You did?"

Nodding Greg went on.

"Yeah, I found out a few interesting things.  Come on." Mycroft found his hand taken and lead to the spare bedroom.   He nearly tripped when he saw that Greg has indeed been busy.  On the wall was a picture of Duncan. Around him was five pictures of women and Mycroft could instantly see the similarities. 

"Gregory, what is this?"

"This is a bit of a long story.  This is Duncan, single child, parents struggled to conceive.   When he was five they went on holiday at Brighton.  A young woman, Annabeth Finch drowned while swimming.  He saw everything."  Mycroft looked at the newspaper clipping and the young woman.   Tan skinned, brown eyes and dark hair, just like all the other women on the wall.  Seeing that to a five year old must have been so traumatic. 

"Did he receive help for the trauma?"

"No." Greg replied and went on the first picture. 

"Cindy Peterson.  She was in Duncan circle of friends and disappears in his first year.  After that was Janet Ingles nine months later, then Kristine Braithwaite eleven months later, followed by Tamara Burnham ten months later.  Sarah Tunstall followed eight months later and then lastly with Felicity Adams nine months ago.  Six girls in total."  Mycroft eyes followed each picture as Greg indicated till the last girl.   They all looked similar, disappear within the same time frame and if this was right, another girl should be abducted within the next few weeks.  He turned to Greg, who was looking at Duncan.   Mycroft knew without a doubt what Greg meant with knowing, but having no proof.   The coincidence is just too uncanny.   There’s no way to deny this. 

"Gregory, if this is right, this means that another girl will disappear within the next few weeks?"

"I know.  There’s nothing I can do, unless I want to go the university and ask them to give out a warning."

"Why don't you?"

"I have no proof, no legal foot to stand on.  Even this here in my room can get me in trouble, but look, there is something here right?"

"Yes.  You are on to something. What else do these girls have in common besides the varsity?" Mycroft needed to think and for that needed all the data.

"They were all last seen at a café or restaurant located around the varsity." Greg replied as he pointed to a map, with five coloured pins. Each girl, a different pin.

"Popular student spots." He mumbled. 

"Yeah, I was thinking...." Here Greg hesitated and Mycroft turned to him, whatever Greg was about to say involves him.

"What?"

"Well I can't take this to my boss and asked for CCTV tapes around that time, he will never authorised it on a hunch but you....."

"I can get that for you." Mycroft said. Greg looked visibly relieved.

"Thanks, I wouldn't ask under normal circumstances, but..."

"I understand Gregory.  I would love to help.  So what was your row with Tallulah about?

"She is sleeping with Duncan, when I told her there’s something off about him; she called me a stubborn, paranoid idiot.”

“Oh.” Mycroft was instantly furious, how dare she?

“I called her shallow and narrow minded, only seeing what she wanted to, even back when we dated.”   Mycroft sighed, Greg can be a bit quick tempered some times.  Still, he was right to put her in his place.

“Isn’t it against regulations to be sleeping with student?”

“Yes, she didn’t like that I pointed that out as well.”  Greg could see that out of all this, Tallulah’s fight bothered him more than Duncan.  He really is overprotective of the people he cares about.  Smiling he took Mycroft’s hand.

"I’m glad you believe, I know how crazy this sounds.”

“You are very good at your job, Greg, and I would love to help you in any way.”

“Thanks.  Shall we order something to eat?”

“As long as it is not that calorie filled carb fest you ordered last time.”

“Hey it was good!”  Greg protested.  Mycroft started walking to the kitchen with Greg following behind.

“Gregory it was a bread roll, filled with chips, some jalapeno sauce and melted cheese.”

“Oh that does sound good.”  Greg eyes suggestively with Mycroft trying to look stern.

“Gregory…”

“Fine fine, Chinese it is.  The things I do for love.”  Greg sat at the counter stool, as if he just did a mayor life altering decision. 

“I appreciate your sacrifice.”

Mycroft replied as he leaned over to kiss him before ordering.

 


	6. Chapter 6

** I see you **

** Chapter 6 **

Knowing he was not alone Greg went to the deacon of the varsity with the pictures of the six women.   After his conversation with Mycroft he realised he needed to something before another girl goes missing.  He might get into trouble, however if he doesn’t, he would feel much worse than a reprimand on his name.  As he walked down the Hallways he saw Tallulah coming down.   See met him hallway, her body language screaming guilt.   She feels guilty Greg realised, he waited till she was close before he spoke.

"Tallulah." Greg greeted with a smile, he may still be angry bit he has a job to do and doesn't have the time for petty disagreements.

"Greg. Listen about the yesterday." She started to explain but Greg took her hand. 

"It's okay.  Don't worry about it."

Tallulah smiled in gratitude, before she looked down at the file.

"What's that?"

"I need to speak to the deacon, which way is his office?"  Greg may have forgotten all about the little row yesterday but he didn't forget that she is sleeping with Duncan and these files will certainly start a new fight. 

"Uum follow me, I was just there."  She eyed the files as if it was going to jump out and eat her, but didn't say anything.   Greg smiled in return and followed her as they walked down the hallway.  Tallulah however wasn’t done with the row the previous day.

"So, I think we can safely say that yesterday you overreacted and that it's all over?" Greg rolled his eyes.

"Overreacted? Are you nuts?  I had every right to be weary of that guy." Greg’s voice rose along with his anger.  Tallulah held out her hands.

"Listen, all I'm saying is that you are so used to question every person who seem different that maybe you are a bit biased when it comes to Duncan."

"And I think you're biased because your emotions are clouding your judgement, trying to hide the fact that you’re shagging a bloke that might be dangerous."

"Greg!" Tallulah nearly yelled, as she frantically looked around, their voices did carry through the hallways and even though empty, you never know who might’ve heard.  

"Don't say that so loud in here."

"Then don't try to make me look like an idiot."

"Fine.  But so you know, you are wrong about Duncan."

"No I'm not, and I'm going to prove that."

"How?"  Tallulah stepped closer to Greg, he just shrugged.

"I can't discuss that with you, now tell me is this his office?" He indicated to the door in front of him, the name plaque a clear copper with black lettering.  The name with his credentials underneath.  A Mr. Bruce Hampton. 

Tallulah nodded and then her eyes caught the files again, it widen as she realised what it could mean. 

"Greg...."

Ignoring her he knocked on the door.   The voice obscured by the door sounded gravely as it gave permission to enter.   Opening the door Greg went inside, without thinking Tallulah followed him.

"Mr Hampton?" Greg greeted as he stepped inside.  The deacon was a middle aged man, five foot nine, with short black hair.   His body was still strong and Greg realised it was because he was an athlete if you look at the pictures on the wall. He seemed friendly but without talking to the man he can't say for sure.   Looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, good morning Mr....?"

"Detective Inspector Lestrade."  Greg clasped the out reached hand and returned the smile. 

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?  You were here yesterday talking to the students?" Hampton looked intrigued and asked Greg to sit down which he did, with the file in front of him. 

"Yes I did.  That’s one of the reasons I'm here."

"Oh? I heard that it was a huge success." He said while looking at Tallulah for confirmation.   She nodded and sat back down.   

"The feedback was most satisfactory."  She confirmed while eyeing the file.

"Yeah, it went great."  Greg eased Hampton before he could ask more questions.  

"However you said that's why you are here?"  Hampton looked worried for a brief moment

"Yeah, um, you see I did a check on the varsity, you know just to get some general information so I don't look too much of an idiot when asked questions and then I came across something really interesting.   You see Mr.  Hampton, I think you have a serial killer on your campus." Greg took a breath to watch the reaction, he could feel the anger from Tallulah next to him but Hampton was staring at him, not in disbelief but with some scepticism.

"Excuse?  Did I hear you right?"

"Yes."

"You think there's a serial killer on the loose here at the university?"

"That's correct"

"Do you have any proof?"

"All my research and evidence are circumstantial at the moment, however if the timeline is correct then there's a real good chance another girl is going to be abducted."

Hampton stared at Greg as if he grew another head. Tallulah was shaking with anger. 

"Do you hear yourself?" She blurted out, both men turned to her, her eyes flashed as she glared at Greg. 

"You come in here, after one class and then decided we have a serial killer student and is about to murder a new victim? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?"

"Tallulah!" Hampton exclaimed.   She looked down in shame.

"How dare you speak to him like that?  I'm sure he is here because he may not have definite proof, as he said circumstantial, and it is our job and responsibility to listen to him." He turned back to Greg.

"I apologise Inspector that was rude, however she does have a point, if I may ask, can you share with us your findings so far?" Greg took a breath and open his file, leaving out his suspicion of Duncan he shared everything else with them, the women, the timeline, everything.  The more he spoke the more solemn Hampton became.   Greg found that strange but refrained from speaking up until the end.

The atmosphere was quiet and heavy when he was done and Greg noticed that Tallulah was shaking slightly in her seat.  Hampton in turn looked at each woman before he looked at Greg.

"Besides being from this varsity, the physical characteristics and that they were seen at a restaurant or cafe is there anything that links them?"

'Here it goes ' Greg thought before he pulled out the newspaper clipping of Annabeth Finch. 

"This woman drowned at a Brighton holiday; there were several witnesses whereas one of them is a student here."  Both Tallulah and Hampton looked up in surprise, Tallulah more shocked as her hand covered her mouth and her eyes closed briefly.

"One of the students saw everything?"

"Yes."

"Who Inspector?"

"Duncan Cleverly."  Hampton sat back in his chair and Tallulah refused to look up.

"That is one big coincidence Inspector."

"Not so big as the fact that since he has been here at the varsity these six women had disappeared.  The first one Cindy Peterson was in fact a friend of his." There was a slight gasp from next to him and Hampton leaned forward again.  Ignoring her, Greg focused on Hampton.

"Inspector, as you say these are all circumstantial and without proof there's nothing either of us can do."

"I know but I was hoping you can broadcast or emphasise student safety and that they should take extra precaution."

"That does not seem unreasonable; it might take time to get the necessary information out?"

"We can send out mass emails to all students." Tallulah’s voice was soft but strong.   Hampton nodded. 

Before he could continue, his phone rang.  He held up a hand to answer.

"Hello?

Yes?

Are you sure? 

When?

What's her name?"

As he talked Greg could see the colour drained from Hampton's face as he looked at Greg then to the pictures.   A feeling of dread settled in his stomach, that doesn't sound good.

Hampton slowly put the phone down and gave Greg a grim look.

"That was campus security, a girl called in said her roommate has gone missing, a Mona Stephens. According to the roommate she's being missing from last week."

"Why did she wait so long before reporting it?" Greg asked dumbfounded.

"She thought she skipped a few classes to go on a trip with some friends."

"Bloody hell." Greg exclaimed as he ran his hand through his hair.  This was so not good.  He turned back to Hampton.

"Do you have a picture of her?"  Hampton nodded before he started typing on his computer and the printer whirled into action.   The dread made way for anger and fury as the girl look just like the girls in the pictures.  He was too late, mind you the fact that he didn't even know about any of this before yesterday, he still felt guilty.

“Okay, I’m taking this copy, sent out that email, add that if anyone sees anything suspicious to contact the campus security and you immediately whereas you let me know.  I’m officially opening a missing person’s case and will take this further.”

“You have the full cooperation with this Inspector.” Hampton agreed as he stands with Greg to shake his hand.  Greg didn’t even acknowledge Tallulah next to him.  He had a job to do.  Picking up the file he turned back to them.

“I trust that none of this will leave this room, especially about Duncan?”

“Absolutely.”

“Sure Greg.”  They agreed.  With a nod he turned around and walked away.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

** I see you **

** Chapter 7 **

Greg spent the rest of the afternoon building a case for the latest missing girl Mona Stephens, it was a fresh case and he could devote as much time as he liked to work it, because it was just a missing persons he had to give the case to Detective Bradbury of missing persons.   After Bradbury did the initial interviews and questioning Greg cornered him in his office. 

He debating with himself on whether he should give the background information or not, however decided to come clean and share everything.   Bradbury is a sensible man and would not let Greg's suspicions on Duncan interfere with his ideas about the case.  They spend the whole late afternoon discussing everything, any possible angle that when he checked his phone it was already past six.  

He still needs to tell Mycroft about the other girl and need to ask whether he got anything on the CCTV cameras.  

He should ask Mycroft if he was still at the office.  Leaving Bradbury's office he went to his own. 

_"Hey Love, you still at the office? GL"_

**"Indeed, why don't you stop by when you leave?  MH."**

_"Sure.  Let me pack up. GL "_

He finally left the Yard before seven, when his phone rang as he made his way outside.   Mycroft's office weren't that far and started walking.  

About halfway his phone rang again with an unknown number.

"Lestrade?"

"Greg?  It's Tallulah."

"What is it?"

"I need to talk to you?  Can we meet for dinner?"

"Not tonight I'm on my way to meet my partner for dinner."

"Oh." Greg frowned; she seemed disappointed for a moment. 

"Just a quick talk. There’s something I need to discuss with you."  Greg squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before answering.

"Where are you?"

"At Starbucks here in Leicester Square?" It was close to Mycroft’s offices and if it's quick it will only take about twenty minutes more to get to Mycroft. 

"Sure, I’ll see you in five minutes."

"Thank you." He can only imagine what she wanted to discuss with him and he wasn't all that interested to hear about how innocent Duncan was.

Still now that the case was open he could deal with it, but first things first, he needed to let Mycroft know, instead of a text he dialled. 

"Gregory?"

"Hi Love,  I'm going to be about twenty minutes late,  a few things happened today which I will tell you all about,  but I just have to meet Tallulah quickly,  she apparently has something very important to tell me,  we're meeting at the Starbucks at Leicester Square,  I’ll stop by afterwards, can I bring you something?"

"No thank you, we can eat here, I’ve already made plans for dinner, is everything in order?"

"Yeah, have no idea what she wants though, have my suspicion."

"I'll see you soon then."

"Later.  Love you."

Mycroft hang up without returning the love declaration, it didn't bother Greg as he knows how Mycroft feels and did say he love him once in private.  He'll get there.

Tallulah was sitting at a corner window with a huge cup of coffee, her fingernails tapped on the table. 

"Tallulah."

"Greg.  Hi.  Thanks for meeting me, can I get you anything?"

"No thank you, I can’t stay long."

"Oh yes you said."

"What's so important that we had to meet up?" Greg asked as he sat down. 

"This thing with Duncan, are you hundred percent sure, because last week he spent most nights with me.  I couldn't say anything this morning as I can lose my job."

Tallulah looked really upset and Greg can understand her position, he may not agree with it, but he can understand that.

"You should have thought about that before you started a relationship with him."

"I know.  It was after the divorce, I was in a bad place and he was keen."  Greg pulled a face in disbelief.

"So you needed a what, confidence booster?"

"Oh don't play with me, don't tell me, it felt good when your partner noticed you and showed interest after so long."

"It did, it felt fantastic but he is not a student, and our relationship is public, no threat of losing our jobs." She stared at him, her face betraying her emotions.

"He?"

"Yes. He. That a problem?"  Greg preparing himself to defend his relationship with Mycroft.  She is the last person to have an opinion about his partner.

"No, no of course not."  Greg looked at his watch, and stood up. 

"Listen I've got to go."

"Duncan knows you don't like him, and suspect something."

"He did, did he?"  Greg asked sarcastically.

"He said he doesn't like the way you looked at him or me for that matter." Greg stepped closer.

"Did you tell him we used to date?"

"Yes, back in college. He asked me whether there were still unresolved feelings."

"What did you say?"

"That's there none; it was a long time ago."

"You have to stay away from him Tallulah, he is dangerous."

"I can't just break it off now, he’ll get suspicious."

"You can't afford not to."

"Greg..."

"We'll speak later, I’ve got to go." With one last wave he left but turned around and went to the counter, Tallulah watch as he bought a homemade nougat bar, dipped in dark chocolate and with cherries inside.   He smiled as he pocketed and left in a hurry down the street.   Putting her head in her hands she leaned forward, feeling way out of her debt.

Greg arrived a few minutes later than he originally arranged with Mycroft.  Before Mycroft could greet him, Greg pulled him in for a breath-taking kiss. 

"You are beyond magnificent, and I'm so glad to have you in my life."

Mycroft held on tight as Greg's arms were around him. He smiled at Greg.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Greg replied and slowly let go, he removed the nougat bar and handed it to him.

"I know you didn’t want anything but I know you love nougat, prefer dark chocolate and likes cherries and here is all three in one." Mycroft rolled his eyes but nevertheless took the chocolate. He does indeed like all three ingredients so it would make sense that Greg buys it. 

"Thank you. I trust the meeting with Tallulah went well?"

"I think I should start from the beginning, after our discussion last night I went to the deacon of the varsity, it was a nice guy, a Bruce Hampton.  She was present with the meeting so she knows about everything.   I told Hampton everything, showed him the files...." Greg recounted the day’s events to Mycroft over dinner as well as his quick meeting with Tallulah on his way here. 

The more he spoke the more worried Mycroft became, his deducting skills and ability to see ahead telling him that this is going to become a big problem.   The fact that another girl was already missing upset him more.   He could understand Greg's frustration with certain aspects of his work.   Where someone like Mycroft could put surveillance on a man like Duncan and have him followed because of his position in government,  Greg do not have that luxury and Mycroft knew Greg was taking this hard.  The fact that another girl has indeed gone missing is worrisome, but it would at least give Greg the opportunity to open a case and investigate it to its full extent.  He only hopes that it would be enough for Greg as this is one of those proverbial cases that won’t go away.  Whatever happens, he will be there for Greg and support him.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

** I see you **

** Chapter 8 **

** **

A few days have passed and neither Greg nor the investigating team made any new progress about the missing girl.  Greg knew without a doubt that Duncan was involved; he just had no way to prove that.  Surprisingly even Mycroft was unable to give him any legal road to follow and get the evidence.  He did suggest that he can have Duncan followed, but Greg declined.  Much to Mycroft’s dismay.  He hasn’t heard anything form Tallulah since they met in the shop, which could mean multiple things, she did seem surprised that he was in a relationship with a man, but he wasn’t going to give that much thought.  She can go play in the park for all that he cared.  Greg looked at the watch as he made his way to the Yard’s entrance, he just came back from another school trip and just wanted to go on with his work – the one he gets paid to do.  He was so in thought that he nearly stumbled into Duncan as he stood in the path. 

"Detective Inspector." He greeted with his most innocent smile that Greg would swear was more predatory than inviting.  Looking around he gave his full attention to Duncan, the by passers forgotten.

"Mr. Cleverley?" He asked feigning ignorance, Duncan’s smile became wider.

"Oh you exactly who I am, after all, the background check must have had pictures."

"What makes you think I did a check? Did you do something wrong?"

"Not at all, however you seem to think I did. What it is, I can only imagine."  Duncan stared into Greg's eyes, and Greg felt as if he was under a microscope.   He would get that feeling with Sherlock or Mycroft, but it never made his blood run colds like this.  Annoyed yes, but a deep hidden primeval fear? No.

Still, he won't let this man scare him off or intimidate him, and the way Duncan just smiled broadly, he knows exactly what he is doing to Greg.  Greg stepped closer and said.

"Annabeth Finch, Cindy Peterson, Janet Ingles, Kristine Braithwaite, Tamra Burham, Sarah Tunstall and Mona Stephens, tell me does the names ring a bell?" Greg suddenly had an overwhelming sense of dread as Duncan's face lost the mask and he saw the coldness surface.  If this was a mutant or superhero movie, he would've sworn that the atmosphere just dropped a few degrees.

Just as soon as the new face popped on, the mask slipped back on, and he stepped back, the air becoming warmer.  He shook his head as if he tried to remember.

"No, can't say it does, although I knew a Cindy once, back when I was a first year.  What about them?"

"You know what about them." Greg replied.

"Are you insinuating something Inspector?  Without proof nonetheless, if I'm not mistaken that is harassment and slander, it would be within my rights to make a complaint."

"I didn't say anything; I just mentioned a few girls’ names."  Greg replied all innocent.  Duncan smiled again.

"That is true; I probably just didn't hear your tone of voice correctly."

"Yeah, must be."  Greg watched as Duncan was the perfect example of comfort and ease.  He made Greg very uncomfortable.   He needed to get away from this man, he needed to get some distance and evaluate and try to make sense of this conversation.  He longed for his office.  A quick glance at his watch he turned his focus back on Duncan.

"Is there a specific reason you're here?"

"Oh no no, was around and after the wonderful class you gave I was curious to see how the great Scotland Yard looks like.   It's quite a building isn't it?  Love to see the inside.  Do you arranged tours?”

Greg thought how he would like to show Duncan the inside of a cell, and by the look he received so did Duncan.

"Well since I'm here I might as well ask."  Oh so there was a reason for the visit.

"Ask what?"

"Did you warn Tallulah about me?"

"Tallulah? Why do you ask she has no connection to you besides the varsity?"  Greg replied.  He was known for being tenacious and stubbornness and wasn’t going to do this lightly. He watches as Duncan tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes.

"Oh we both know there's a connection."

"You mean you're sleeping with her."

"We are in a relationship, and I won't have you come between us." Here Duncan lost some of his tight control.  Greg narrowed his eyes.

"You do know it's against the rules for both of you?  The only thing that will become between you is the law."

"Yet you're the law and an old lover.   Besides I have never been one to be conformed or restricted by the rules and petty laws of men in suits."

"So you break them?"

"I just don't let it hold me back."

"From what?" 'Murder?' Greg mentally added. 

"From whatever I occupy my life with, and most certainly in my work."

"In criminal psychology?”

"Yes, such as fascinating subject don't you think?"

Greg was hoping for a distraction, any distraction before he says something he really should’ve left unsaid.

"Listen, I need to go, as much as I enjoy talking to you, I’m quite busy."

"Yes, having pep talks at schools and varsities must be a tiresome experience." Duncan retorted with glee.  Greg could feel his blood boiling but refrained from taking the bait, his jaw clenched as he bit down his anger.

"Exactly. So please..." Greg started as he walked past Duncan, but Duncan stopped him.

"May I suggest you forget this little vendetta you have against me, Tallulah is over you and slandering my name isn't going to help you?"

Greg clenched his fist.

“Is that what you're thinking?  That I have some long lost feelings for her? I am in a committed relationship, the best I ever had in fact, so your little rant is a waste of my time.  However Tallulah should stay away from you, because you are a dangerous man.  Oh and by the way, let’s get to the point: I do not have a vendetta against you; I just know you are bad news and yes, you have something to do with those missing girls, and I will find out what happened to them.  They will have their justice.”  Greg instantly regretted his words as Duncan nearly snarled at him.  He stepped into Greg’s space, his height allowing him to look as though he was looming over Greg.

“You do not want me as your enemy!  I’m warning you, stay away.”

“Are you threatening me?  I am an officer of the law.”

“Like I said, that has never stopped me.” Duncan growled out. 

“You won’t get away with this.” Greg retorted to which Duncan responded by laughing loudly.  He leaned into Greg’s space until they were practically standing chest to chest.

“I’d like to see how you are going to stop me.” Greg was thinking of a retort when Duncan pushed away.

“See you soon Inspector.”  Greg watched as he walked away, without a care in the world, he, on the other hand was badly affected by the whole ordeal.  He really wished that he could go and have a beer or two, unfortunately he had to settle for a coffee and some paperwork.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

  **I see you**

** Chapter 9 **

** **

By the late afternoon he was beyond tired, he wanted to go home and just hold Mycroft as he forgets about Duncan.  The whole ordeal made him uneasy and gave him a sense of paranoia.   The second time he was looking behind him he nearly walked into a door. Luckily he was alone and could hide the embarrassment of catching him red-handed with scepticism. 

This wouldn't do.

Duncan was getting under his skin and it was driving him crazy. The investigation into Mona Stephens still hasn't yielded any fruit; in fact it seems to be at a standstill.  That, in itself was making him even more frustrated.  Duncan was good and if he can't find the evidence, he would get away with murder, again. 

 

His feet dragged him home, trying to carry both his weight and the weight of his frustration.   As a last resort he can call in Sherlock, but he didn't want to, for starters he doesn't want Duncan near Sherlock or any of the persons he cared about. 

Getting home he fell onto his sofa with a beer, the whole ordeal was driving him crazy and a beer just might be the thing to calm him down.  Actually Mycroft would be the perfect distraction, but he was still working so the beer just had to play substitute. 

There has to be a way to get the man.  For a brief moment he considered going up to Duncan and just confront him straight on, but that would be very unwise.   Finishing his beer he went to the spare room to look at the pictures again.   The faces of the girls were staring back at him, and he had to take all his willpower not let it get to him.  He is making this personal which is a mistake, he can't let the girls faces get into his mind, they will haunt him.  Not to mention the smirk on Duncan's face, even in the photo Greg feels as though it is directed to him personally.   He must've been in such concentration that he never heard his front door opened, nor that someone was entering his home. 

 

Mycroft had a feeling that something happened that day and that Greg needed him, or he needed him, he just wanted to be close to Greg these days. 

The place was quiet but the empty can on the coffee table told him, that Greg was here, and most likely his instinct was right.  He looked around and saw the spare room lights were on. Frowning he made his way over there.  This case was getting to Greg and he didn't know how to help. He might have the notion to follow Greg, Duncan and the whole Yard, but Greg already said no..... well no to follow Duncan, didn’t say anything about following Greg….

His eyes run over Greg as he stood in the room, his eyes staring at the wall and pictures.  To be honest the photos is bothering him, as he knew those pictures is causing Greg to become more involved than what is strictly healthy.  Look at him now, didn't even hear him come in, nor notice that he was standing in the doorway looking at him. 

"Gregory?" He softly asked, not wanting to startle the man. Greg didn't hear so Mycroft tried again. 

"Gregory." Greg nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked at Mycroft.  His first instinct to fight as he grabbed the first thing he could. A paper weight.

"Mycroft!" Greg visibly relaxed as he put the weight down and walked over to Mycroft, without a second thought he pulled Mycroft into a hug holding him tight.   Mycroft hugged him back, his arms around Greg and he could feel the adrenaline and high pulse rate as Greg calmed down.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He tried. 

"It's okay, I’m so glad to see you."  Greg replied and slowly let go of Mycroft. 

“I thought we could have some dinner?" Mycroft said once he was free, returning the smile Greg gave him.

"Oh yes, want me to make something?" Greg asked.

"That won't be necessary, I brought us some food. We can maybe just reheat it again."

"Sure, let's go."

 

Once the food was warm and they were eating Greg told Mycroft all about the morning and his run in with Duncan. 

"Gregory, I don’t like this." Mycroft replied, his face contorted in worry and concern.  He made a mental note to check the cameras tomorrow and see the interaction for first hand. 

"You're not the only one." Greg agreed.

Greg could see the worry in Mycroft, and find that he can't really blame him, he as well has a very bad feeling about all of this, and he just wishes he knew what to do.

"Is there any way you can find out more about Mr Cleverley?" Mycroft finally asked

"In what way?"

"His relationship with his parents, teachers, friends at school, that sort of things?"

"Not without breaching protocol and invade his privacy to such a manner that if found out, he can sue me, or make a charge against me." Greg replied

"He can do that?"

"Yes. The Yard takes invasion of privacy as a serious offence, I can lose my job, not to mention, anything I find will be thrown out in court."

"I really hate this red tape you are bounded with."

Greg chuckled softly.

"I take it you don't have that chain."

Mycroft looked embarrasses for about two seconds before he answered.

"I have no idea what you're implying." This made Greg laughed even louder.

Mycroft mouth quirk but didn't break out in a full on smile. 

"Glad you're finding it amusing."

"Oh very, but so do you, you’re just hiding it better." Greg answered between his laughter. 

They finished their dinner in comfort and afterwards Mycroft tried to distract Greg with a movie. They snuggled together on the sofa, watching the movie. 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

It was just after twelve when the woman woke up, struggling only to find her hands and legs are bind together.   There was a gag in her mouth.  With effort she manoeuvred herself in a sitting position, which allowed her to look outside.   She was in the country, surrounded by trees.  She was in the back of a van, the headlights providing the only source of light.  Everything in her wanted to scream, but she didn't.  It would be futile, and the only one who would hear her, would be her kidnapper.   She needed her wits about her. Taking a deep breath through her nose she looks around for anything that might help her.

As she moved her legs touch something, a glass bottle.  Probably the vodka he forced her to drink.  She reached out and grabbed it, and then she picked up her jacket that was laying on the floor of the van, tucked into a corner.   She only has this one chance to make it work.  With her tied hands she wrapped the bottle in her jacket, put it on the floor, lifting her tied feet she brought it down with as much force she could muster,  the bottle didn't break.  She tried again and after the third time she hear the unmistakable crunch as the bottle broke.  She stood still for a moment, making sure no one heard.  It was quiet. 

Knowing time was running out she opened her jacket and looked for the biggest glass shard.  It didn't matter that she was cutting her hands as well, she wanted to live.  Finding a piece she cut through the rope around her ankles and then her wrists.  Picking up her jacket she gave it a shake to remove most of the glass and then held it against the van door, she slowly opened the door and looked out. She could see some light in the distance, and -him - singing while he dug. She whimpered in fear as she realised he was digging a grave, her grave.  Without a second thought she climbed out and had to use every single control she had to not start running in the opposite direction.

Closing the door with the jacket, to prevent her bloody hands leaving marks she walked to the front of the van, she wiped her hands from the blood.  Luckily it was most superficial and has started to clot already.  Making her mind up she threw the jacket on the grass next to the front wheel.  Hoping against all odds it would be enough to distract him.  She slowly walked back to the back and then about ten degrees right of where he was.

 She moved out of the gravel path onto the grass and moved in the same direction as he was digging.  He will walk to the van when he is done, and finding her gone, he would run down the road. She is going to do the opposite.   She moved till she came across a huge tree, and started to climb up, hoping to see some light in the distance.  Halfway up though the digging stopped.  She froze as she watched from her view the light moving back to the van.  There’s no way she can't get back down and run fast enough and in a moment of panic started to climb higher in the tree. It was big and she was already six feet from the ground.  She can make it at least 12 or 16 before she can be safely hidden away. 

She heard the van door slammed closed.

He discovered her missing. 

"Monaaaaaaaa!" His voice broke the silence of the night and several birds took flight out of the trees.  It was a loud roar and she used the distraction to climb the last few branches until she was about seventeen feet up, the branches and leaves were thick and she found a nice spot to sit comfortably in, or as comfortable as it will allow her.

"I know you're here, why don't you come out?" His voice still carried through the air. From the light and shadowing she knew he was in front of the van, where her jacket was.  The torch he carried was shining even further in the distance, opposite her hiding place.  

"Listen here you little bitch! I will find you and everything I've already done to you will seem like a walk in the park!"  Mona bit down her wrist in an attempt to silence herself from making a sound. She started crying and knows if she is discovered she will be dead.  She listened as he climbed in the car, slamming the door and drove off in a rush. The wheels spinning as he drove.  This is her chance yet her adrenaline finally lowered her and she was too scared to move.  She folded her arms on her knees, lowered her head and waited. 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

** I see you **

** Chapter 10 **

** **

Greg woke up with a very bad knot that had formed in his stomach.  Something happened, or is about to happen.  He knew that there is something that shifted during the night. He won’t be able to pin point it, it was just something he felt.   It wasn’t his relationship with Mycroft as the man was still asleep, holding him close.   Greg briefly smiled as Mycroft's breath tickled his neck.  His long pale arm was around his chest, and his knees behind Greg’s.  It’s not every day he ends up a little spoon but after the talk last night, Mycroft is feeling very protective.  Greg knew Mycroft wanted to arrange some sort of protection detail for him, and the way he feels this morning, he feels he might just agree if Mycroft suggest it.

He made up his mind about Duncan, he was going to go ahead and find every possible way to get the proof he needed, if it meant he was going to stalk him, that’s fine, he will just claim he wants to his new best friend.  Greg snorted at the idea.

"What's so funny so early?"  Mycroft’s sleepy voice asked. Greg smiled and turned around to look at Mycroft. 

"That I'm going to be Duncan's newest best friend."  Mycroft blinked then sat up, resting his back against the headboard.  Greg followed.

"I already think you’re something to him, won’t say best friend though."  Mycroft said, still sleepy, but serious.

Greg nodded. 

"Yeah.  I just.... this morning I woke up with the strangest feeling.... things are about to change...or had already changed...I can’t explain."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes as he watched Greg.  He could see in Greg’s posture that he was certain something had changed and once again marvelled at the fact that unlike him, or Sherlock,  Greg has a sixth sense for something.  He had an intuition, a feeling that he wish he had.  He uses logic and deductions to know a person, Greg use instinct.  Whatever Greg is feeling he should heed to that. Greg is never wrong.  All of a sudden Mycroft had an overwhelming moment of fear for the unknown.   If Greg is worried which he clearly is, he should be worried.  

"Greg, I know you won't like this but I really need to know you are safe at all times, I am raising your level of security." Greg looked at Mycroft, and his own worry was mirrored, he tried to calm his heart and Mycroft by pulling him close for a soft comforting kiss.

Mycroft went willingly into his arms. It felt so safe and strong. 

"I'm okay with it, does this mean more cameras or someone following me?" Mycroft smiled in relief, already preparing himself to defend his cause and actions.  The fact that Greg agreed is worrisome but he wasn't going to let it show, instead he placed his hands on either side of Greg's cheeks.

"More cameras yes, and a man or woman will be assigned to keep an eye on you."

"Just temporary all right?"

"Promise, until you feel the threat is over." Mycroft replied.

"You'll let me call the shots?"

"Yes. You gave your permission and I'll respect it until you say enough."

"Thanks Love."

 

 

By the time Greg arrived at work, he could feel the difference, but he told himself it is because he was made aware of it, if he didn't he would never have known about the extra security.  Also if his paranoia wasn’t on high alert as well.

The morning started relatively quiet until the afternoon when Detective Bradbury came running into his office. 

"Greg?"  Greg knew straight away this is what he was waiting for, whatever happened, it is big.

"What."

"Mona Stephens.  Just been found; alive."

Alive?  Greg didn’t think twice, grabbing his jacket and phone he followed him out, asking question after question.

"Where? Is she saying anything? Is she hurt?  How come alive?  Where was she?"  Bradbury rolled his eyes as he walked to the car with Greg following. 

"You know as much as I do. She was found and is at the hospital."

Greg sat impatiently in the car as they drove to the hospital; it was quite the distance from the Yard.  Why did he feel as if the whole fiasco just changed from a simple case to something that will affect them all? 

They made their way to the parking area before going inside.  

"Okay Greg, I know this isn't just a normal case, but we have to take it slow."

"I know that."

"I know that, as much as I want this bastard behind bars I won't do it at the cost of an innocent victim." For a moment Greg looked angry and offended that he would suggest that. Bradbury sighed.

"I know, you won't, I just...."  Greg decided to take it easy on him; he probably would’ve done the same.

"Yeah. I know.  Let's go in hey?"

"Yeah let's do it." 

 

They walked inside and showed their badges to the nurses and were taken to her room. 

"Listen detectives I know you have a job to do, but whatever happened to that young girl, weren’t good. She hardly talks; she refuses to drink water and food if she didn't see you prepare it or opened the sealed package in front of her or the bottle of water. She gets nightmares and is much attuned to her surroundings."

"She was tortured." Greg stated the nurse looked at him, pursing her lips...

"I can't make that call."

"But you saw enough in your years to know."

"I did. Whatever happened to her, she is not going to forget this for a very long time, if ever."

"You think she has PTSD?" Greg asked softly. The nurse looked said it all, both Greg and Bradbury sighed and looked down. 

"Just..... Be careful.....gentle with her." The nurse said before she walked away.   

They nodded. 

Bradbury allowed Greg to go in first.  Greg went in and it was only the years on the force that allowed him to keep his face neutral.  Mona, was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn up her hands were bandaged otherwise she looked fine and healthy, a bit malnourished from the few days of whatever she went through. 

Her eyes on the other hand, they spoke of terror and pain.  When the door opened she was instantly alert and focused on them. 

They walked in steadily and with caution.  

"Miss Stephens?" 

"You're cops? I want protection.  Please." She added as if she forgot.  Greg and Bradbury shared a look.   Bradbury answered. 

"It's already been arranged, they will arrive within the hour.  Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" She nodded.  

"I don’t want to talk about it."

"No problem." Greg replied.  She looked at him for a moment longer before she relaxed slightly.  

"Mona, I understand it wasn’t a pleasant experience but if we are going to catch who did this, we need as much as you can give me." Bradbury asked softly as he sat down on one of the plastic chairs. Greg followed suit and sat on the other side.  

"You won't.  I don’t know anything." Mona looked down, ignoring them.  Greg sighed. 

"Mona, why do you say that?" 

"You don't know him, you won't catch him." Both Greg and Bradbury shared a look.  She was frightened. 

"Mona...." Bradbury tried before Greg interrupted. 

"You weren't the first but you are the first to survive.   I can understand your fear, your doubt in us to catch him, and put him away where he belongs.  But I promise you he won't be able to come near you.  Not now not ever." Mona looked at Greg for a long time.  

"You know who it is?"

"I have a suspicion, so doe’s agent Bradbury, but without proof and evidence there is nothing I do." 

"Detective Inspector Lestrade..." Bradbury said, hoping that Greg doesn't reveal too much.   Greg narrowed his eyes and looked around to him. 

"It's the truth." He stated.  

"Doesn't matter, I don't know anything." Mona repeated.  

They could see she was too scared, she refused to cooperate.   

Greg had an idea, but it could get him in loads of trouble. He had to do this alone.  He quickly got up. 

"Excuse me a moment."  Ignoring the looks they gave him he quickly stepped outside.  His phone in his hand already dialling.

"Hello?  Mycroft?"

"Gregory."

"Listen I'm sorry to bother you, they found Mona."

"The missing girl?"

"Yes."

"Is she okay?"

"No, not really.  She refuses to talk, she is terrified and she is asking for police protection."

"The poor girl.  I can imagine it must be difficult for her.   Why doesn't she want to talk about it, especially if she knew who did it?"

"Because she's scared and she doesn't think we can put him behind jail.  That’s kind of why I'm calling."

"What are you planning?"

"Can you perhaps have someone watch her, someone not related to the police force?"

"Of course, someone will be there in 30 minutes. Are you going to tell her?"

"Yes. Then I'm going to confront her about Duncan." 

"Is that wise?"

"Probably not, but I have to try. You don't have to worry, I won't harass her or anything, and I just need to make her understand I really want to help."

"The man I'm sending over is called David, he will make himself known to you.  Ask for password, it will be 'coriander' tell the girl she can trust him."

"Thank you."

"How are you getting back to the office?"

"Excuse me?”   Greg asked, already half smiling.

“You are obviously going to let your colleague go on his own, so you can talk to her, and tell her about David."

Greg laughed softly.  Mycroft knew him.

"I'll catch a cab to the tube station and then take the Tube, it’s on the end of the line, so I'll make a few changeovers but its fine."

"Gregory....please…take care........"

"I will, I love you."

"I...." Greg could hear Mycroft struggled to say that over the phone in fact they haven't really said it before, this is the first time he said it out loud.  

"You know I don't think I've said it to you before, strange cause I really do.  See you tonight?"

"Yes. We'll talk then. "

"Okay." Greg hangs up and stepped back into the room, Bradbury had obviously tried in his absence but she wasn't forthcoming with anything.  

Greg stepped to Bradbury.  

"Listen why don't you go back to the office and I'll stay here until the protection arrives?" 

"You sure, how will you get back?"

"Tube. Yeah go on." Bradbury said his goodbyes and left leaving the two of them alone.   Greg sat down in his chair and Mona ignored him.  

Greg waited about ten minutes before he looked at her. It was no or never.  

"Duncan Cleverly."

The result was instantaneous, she froze up, and her heart monitor started spiking.  Greg held out his hands. 

"I'm sorry."

"Why would you say that?" She asked through her tears.  She was terrified, and shook all over.  Greg answered in a soft soothing voice.

"Because we both know what kind of man he is."

"I can't talk to you!" She cried out.  

"Mona, I am trying to put him away, I know what he is and also that you are not the first as I said before, I want to stop him."

She stopped fidgeting and stared as if she only heard him for the first time.

"There were others?" Greg nodded.  

"Did they survive?" He shook his head and she started crying.  

"I don’t know, as we never found them.  Listen…Mona, don’t tell anyone but I know someone who was able to get you some extra security, some really good security. He will be here shortly and you can trust him."  In fact, it was right then there was a knock on the door. 

 

Greg opened it and looked at the man standing in front of him.  

"Can I help you?"

"I'm David."

"Have to ask, have you eaten yet?" Greg wasn't just going to flat out asked for password, and from the smirk he received neither did David.

"Yes sir, it was a curry with some good coriander in it"

Greg smiled and opened the door.  

"Mona, this is David, David, Mona Stephens." He turned back to her. 

"You can trust him, even more than the cops okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm here for you not the Met or any other organisations. My first priority is you." David answered as he stepped forward.  Mona looked satisfied with the answer.  

"Are you staying outside or in here?"

"Where ever you would feel the most comfortable with.  It is already cleared with the hospital staff, you have the authority to say who may and may not enter this room." Both Greg and Mona were impressed with that. 

"Really?" She asked. 

He nodded.  

Greg stepped closer and tried again.  

"Mona, is there anything you can tell me about the man who kidnapped you?"

"I can't.  I can't."

"Mona."

"No!" 

"This is all good and well" she pointed to David. "But he can't follow me the rest of my life." 

"Mona....."

"No. Please leave." Greg shoulders sagged, he can't force her.   He walked back to the door.  Before he left he turned to her. 

"I understand how terrified you must be, but please if you change your mind, tell David, he’ll contact me." Closing the door behind him he let his frustration showed. 

He is so close, yet so far. 

As he made his way to the nurse’s station the protection detail arrived.  He spent a few minutes informing them about their duties before quickly going back to Mona.

"Mona?  The protection detail is here, you can tell them David is your brother or something if not the truth." She nodded and he left again.   

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?” Greg’s hands froze on the handle.   His whole body shivered. He opened the door. This isn’t good.

"David, one minute please?" 

David stepped out.  Greg was facing Duncan as he stood in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers.  

"Boys, David, this man isn't to be allowed within any radius of the patient.   Not a hello n letter, or flower, not even a leaf, or I'll have your jobs. That understood.?"

"Yes sir."

"Clear." They answered. 

Duncan narrowed his eyes. 

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Protecting the patient."

"I'm just a concerned friend."

"We both know exactly what you are and what you're not.  No excuse me, you’re not welcome here, can I escort you out?"

Duncan smiled and held up his hands the flowers in the air. 

"It's okay; I can find my way out." Greg watched as he turned around and walked to the nursing station and then with convincing charm gave them the flowers.  The nurses smiled and blushed.   He was good. 

 

He turned to David, sharing a look. David nodded and Greg left.  He made his way to cab and had to use all his willpower not to look over his shoulder.  Back at the hospital David reported the whole incident to Mycroft before sitting down.  Outside Duncan stood behind a pillar, watching the cab as it pulled away with Greg inside. A smile on his face.  

“See you soon Detective.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

I see you

Chapter 11

 

Greg arrived late that afternoon  back at the office.   His mind working overtime. What the hell was Duncan doing at the hospital?  Trying to finish what he started? Finding out what she knew?  Try to kill her? 

Duncan was a very dangerous man and he needed to do everything he possibly can to make sure he doesn't hurt Mona or any other girl ever again.

He had a quick meeting with Bradbury to let him know that protection had arrived and to be informed and then told him about Duncan's visit.   

They both agreed, that doesn't sound like anything good.  Greg didn't tell him about David, he wanted to, but didn't.  He can't really justify it and there is no guarantee that he would understand or agree to it. 

The rest of the day was spent in a lot less dramatic way than what he spent his morning.   The only thing that he can truly say is different is the fact that he was even more aware that there were eyes on him,  it made him feel almost trapped in his space.  He knew about one person that keeps an eye on him, whoever Mycroft assigned to him, but he was certain, he felt it, someone else was watching him.  As towards his car he picked up his phone and dialled.

“Dr. Lambeth.”

“Tallulah, its Greg.”

“Greg, what do you want?”  He could hear the tiredness in her voice, probably overworking.  Well that was too bad, everyone works hard and everyone is tired.

“Did you hear we found Mona?”

“Yes, I was informed of this it is great news.  Did she tell you who kidnapped her, so you could get over your ridiculous obsession with Duncan?”

Greg rolled his eyes in frustration and anger. Some people, he can understand Sherlock’s irritation with them, only sometimes.  Sighing he walked to his car.

“It’s not an obsession if I’m wrong, and no, she hasn’t talked yet, as she is terrified.  Did you know that he came to see her in the hospital?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”   

“No, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, he is such a good man, he always go visit strangers in the hospital and brings them flowers. When was the last time he brought you flowers?” 

The line was quiet and he knew he hit a sore spot, she had no comeback for that line, and the he didn’t know whether he should feel a littlie guilty or not.  So he didn’t do anything.

“I’m not playing this game with you Greg, she is a student, it could be that he just cares.”  Tallulah was firm and to the point.  

“Oh I agree, students are all just a close knit family, just have to think back to our past” 

“Greg, this isn’t a time for sarcasm.”  Greg sighed, she was right, he had a job to do, and needed to get to the point. 

“You’re right, listen when was the last time you saw him?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The last time you saw him?” 

“Yesterday.” 

“How did he seemed?” 

“We had a fight.”

“About?”  Greg looked up, that was very interesting, the usual calm and calculated man was angry and agitated, the night Mona escaped.  His instincts were on high alert. 

“Greg that is personal, I don’t ask you about your relationship with your partner.” 

“That is true, but my partner is not a…..he didn’t finish the sentence, he cant tell her what he really think. 

“A what...?  murderer?”  

“Well you said it.  Listen just tell me, was it strange?  Did you have fights a lot?”  he could hear her taking a moment, his words hit a small nerve. 

“Tallulah, please.” 

“It was the first time that I’ve seen him like that, he was furious, and he didn’t want to tell me what was wrong, he just didn’t want talk.  I was a bit surprised at all this in fact.  And then this morning he was happy and very apologetic, promised me that he would make it up to me and everything was going to be okay.”    Greg stopped at his car his hand next to keyhole, the key standing out.  This was bad and good, bad because that meant Duncan is not always in control as he should be, and good because that can be used against him. 

“Okay, thank you.  I got to go.  Ill talk to you later okay, let me know as soon as something seems off to you.”

“I will think about it.”  The line went dead.  Greg looked at the phone and pocketed it.  Strange how people can change.  

 

He spend the night alone, Mycroft called earlier to say he was in a long distance conference which meant he had no real distraction, but to sit back and stew on his emotions and thoughts about Duncan. 

 

The day was spend in the usual way first at the school he was supposed to be, then the afternoon filling in paperwork. It was just before his shift ended that his team received a call out. A simple open and shut domestic case.  Still taking enough time to make things difficult in allowing them to get home on time. 

By nine he was finally able to make it home, he was tired, hungry and longed to speak to Mycroft, they hardly had a chance to speak since the day before, although Mycroft did texted him more often than normally.  A long shower, or bath and he would be good to go, after a few days of this campaign stuff, he was able to pretty much wing and reuse most of his material for presentations.  His phone rang while he was in the car.  It was a private number which probably meant that Mycroft was calling him from the office.

“Lestrade?”  

“Detective Lestrade?”  The voice was unfamiliar, yet strong.  His heart skipped a beat, did something happened to Mycroft?  Cant be, Anthea would call him immediately, not a stranger. 

“Yes.”  

“My name is Lucas, I am calling on behalf of Mr. Holmes, I am his driver, it is quite unfortunate, the car he usually drives has broken down, and instead of waiting for a replacement to be sent out, he asked me to call you to pick him up.  He is at the Diogenes club, he will wait outside for you as you are in the near area.”  

Greg frowned, why on earth would he asked the driver to call?  What about Anthea or more importantly, why wouldn’t he text himself or call?

“I’m sorry Lucas, where is Mycroft, and why isn’t he calling me himself?” 

“Oh, he is on a call sir, with his security, about the car, there was an attempt made on breaching the car, and he needs to give his report, before me you see.  So while he is calling, I’m calling you before I need to go in and give my report.” 

Greg didn’t really listen after he hear attempt and breach, he immediately started to panic and was already driving faster to Mycroft’s location.  What happened to him and worry that Mycroft was okay, was enough to transfer his worry and paranoia from the call to Mycroft. 

“Is he okay?”  Greg blurted out. 

“Oh yes sir.  Can I tell Mr. Holmes you are on your way?” 

“Yes.  I’m about five minutes away, can I talk to him?  Is he still on the call?” 

“Yes sir, wait hold on sir, he wants to say something quickly…”  there was a footsteps and then he heard Mycroft’s voice. “Gregory?  Ill talk to you soon.”   

“Mycroft wait….are you okay?”  Mycroft!”  there was some noise and then Lucas came back on the line.

“Sorry about that sir, he is back on the phone again.”

“I’m almost there.”  Greg hang up the phone and turned into the right street.  As he came closer he noticed that the entrance was quiet and dark, there was no car.  Feelings of suspicion and worry he picked up his phone and dialed. 

It rang twice before it was answered.  Just as he came to a stop in front of the building and switched off his car.

“Gregory what a surprise, are you on your way home?”

“What, no, I’m here to pick you up, your driver called….” Greg voice trailed off as he closed his eyes.  It was a trap, and he walked into it. 

“What are you talking about?  What do you mean my driver called?”  Mycroft asked in a rush, his voiced filled with tension and worry.  Greg looked around.

“You didn’t let Lucas call me?” 

“Who is Lucas?”  Greg swallowed, ‘shit’ 

“Mycroft, find me.” 

“Gregory…”

“Someone called me, saying you were at the Diogenes, an attempt was made on your car, and you needed me to pick you up, I’m here and its dark.  I think I just walked into a trap.” 

“Get out of there. Now!”  Mycroft cried out and Greg didn’t waste time in switching his car back on, only it didn’t want to switch on.  The car was dead.

“I cant. The car is dead.” 

“What do you mean.....”  the line went dead.  Greg held the phone to see the phone was cut off, there was no signal.  That was impossible, he didn’t move.  He was so concentrated he never noticed that when the car died, the central locking system, unleashed and the car was unlocked.  He didn’t saw the man walking toward the car and opened the door until it was to late. 

“What the…” he turned around to look at who opened the door when something was sprayed into his face, it overwhelmed his senses immediately and he was unconscious in less than a minute, the phone fell out of his hands, as he slumped over. 

 


	12. Chapter 12

** I see you **

** Chapter 12 **

In less than half an hour, the Diogenes was surrounded with every department Mycroft had at his disposal. He kept trying to call Greg, but the phone was, it was completely dead, just like the cameras. He was frustrated and angry but most of all, extremely worried for Greg's well being, he knew it was Duncan, it can only be him. He looked around as people work on the Greg's car, still dead and standing on the side of the street, the door was open. No signs of struggle, and no sign of Greg. For once he was unsure of what to do, he saw everything that he could, Greg was lured under the pretense that he was in need of help, the fact that Duncan exactly knew where the Diogenes was, was worrisome. Greg drove here, the car stopped, then he used an electronic device to kill the electronics on the car, then a signal blocker. The only thing he didn't count on was that Greg would call him, and alerted him to his predicament.

"Sir, we found this on the front seat floor of the driver seat." Mycroft turned to the man holding out an item, as he looked he saw it was Greg's phone. He took it without breaking the mask on his face.

"Thank you. Is there any other signs or evidence that might help?"

"None sir. Besides for the open door, it is clean."

"good, When you're done here, take the car to our garage, and ran more test, also check why the CCTV cameras weren't working and how far it runs, just these here or the whole block."

"Yes sir." Mycroft watched him walk away. He wanted to scream, every moment he is standing here, is another moment where Greg is getting further away from him. Anthea was on her way, checking Greg's phone records and his schedule at work. The man assigned to Greg went to Greg's office, checking files and open cases.

He needed help, and the only one who can really help him now, is Sherlock. Looking away in the distance he took out his phone and dialed.

"What do you want? I'm busy with an important experiment." The bass voice drawled over the line.

"I need your help please, Gregory has been kidnapped." Mycroft didn't play around or taken the bait, he was tired and scared, and couldn't even hide the worry out of his voice.

"What?"

"Ill explain everything, can you meet me at his place right now?" The best way to explain it was to show them the file and photos at Greg's place.

"Were on our way." Sherlock replied and hang up. Mycroft took a breath and looked around, the men were already packing up and Greg's car was hoisted up ready to be towed. He held Greg's phone close as he walked back to the car to go to Greg's.

XXXXX

Greg was unaware of anything as the van drove down the city streets into the country, BBC1 Radio was playing on the radio. The traffic got lighter and smoother as it left the city and turned into the country road. Right down to a farm on the outskirts. He was still unconscious as the car stopped in from the barn and he was carried out the night air into the a back room behind the barn. He was dumped on the floor in the middle of a cold tile floor, where his coat was removed as well as his jacket. Laying on the floor in his trouser and shirt, he was cuffed to a pipe in the corner. Switching of the light he was left alone and the door closed with loud thud.

XXX

As promised Mycroft was hardly inside when the door burst open and Sherlock barged in, John on his heels. He was on the point to say something when he gave his brother one look and closed his mouth. He looked around the place, the traces of his brother's presence more prominent than before. It was strange to see, yet he backed away from saying anything.

Mycroft looked at his brother, with one glance he knew that Sherlock who could see how affected he was, he wasn't even wearing his jacket, and the waistcoat had a button loose. Nevertheless he stood up and walked toward the spare room, with ease and comfort. His knowledge of the place well-known. He switched on the lights and turned to Sherlock to see his expression as he saw the wall. As he thought it was memorable, Sherlock stared at the wall, his mouth open in surprise as he glanced at the pictures.

John stepped closer. He turned to Mycroft.

"What is this?"

Mycroft stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Duncan's photo.

"This is Duncan Cleverley,"

"Mycroft." Sherlock walked so that he was standing next to his brother.

"About a week ago, Gregory was asked to participate in a new campaign, to improve the police image."

"What did it involved?" John asked.

"Talks, presentations and so forth the first day at the university he met Duncan and it send him on high alert, he was convinced in five minutes that he was a psychopath and serial killer, who either already killed or was about to. He did some background checks and found all of these woman were missing, they were all taking while Duncan was at the University." He turned around and picked a folder on the table and took out a new picture.

"This is Mona Stephens, she was taken a few days ago, found yesterday morning. She escaped but refused to talk about it. Two police officers were assigned to her protect her, but Greg asked me to assign additional security for her."

"Which you did." Sherlock replied. Mycroft nodded.

"Yes I did, I also increased his security. Duncan develop some fascination with him."

Sherlock and John looked around. Mycroft finally turned away from the picture and the wall and sat down on the office chair. John looked away to Mycroft, he walked to him.

"Are you okay to handle this?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Maybe you should." John tried but Mycroft stopped him.

"I'm fine, I have been in much worst situations."

"But this is personal." Mycroft stood up.

Sherlock watched the interaction in silence.

"He can do this John." Mycroft turned to Sherlock. He just nodded.

"Anything else?" Mycroft asked.

"We need to speak to Mona."

"I've contacted David, he will inform Mona and we can be there first thing in the morning." Mycroft started walking out the room, John followed him as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Do you think she would talk to us?"

"I don't know, but I'm am hoping we can convince her, maybe not exactly what happened, but at least some idea of where she was held, and how she managed to escape." He didn't tell John that he was hoping and praying with everything in him, that she would talk, that she would help them, because he read her file, whatever it is that Duncan does, it is horrible. He started to make tea and John watched him work, about halfway Sherlock came in and sat next to John at the table, his eyes on his brother as he was so at home in Greg's place, moving around as if he belonged there. Finishing the tea he gave each of them a mug, exactly to each preference before he opened a cupboard and took out some biscuits. He hasn't eaten since lunch and although he wasn't hungry he knew that John might want something, Sherlock is on a case and food is the last thing on his mind.

Turns out he was right, John loved the biscuits and surprisingly even Sherlock had a few. After tea it was decided that nothing more could be done, they had to wait for the team to finish the processing of the car, and Mycroft had arranged that every file and camera videos be sent to his laptop which he gave to Sherlock.

Mycroft looked around the room everyone found their spot on the sofa in front of the laptop, in Greg's house and the only thing that was missing was Greg. He hated it, he hated that he failed him, that Greg is out there somewhere and he had no idea what is happening to him. John was half right, he can do this, but he is not sure if he can watch the videos.

"I trust you will find everything in order, ill be in the other room." Without waiting for an answer he left. Sherlock and John watch him left without a word. John turned to Sherlock.

"Do you think we should… you know go after him?"

"No. there's nothing we can do for him now. Lets catch up on the case."

Mycroft went to the main bedroom and closed the door behind him. Everything in this room screams Greg, the style the décor, the colors everything, A book was on the nightstand, Greg would read when he couldn't sleep, their towels are hanging next to each other on the rail, Mycroft's products are mixing with Greg's on the counter. He didn't really know what to do about this, he has people looking for Duncan, and investigate his background but for tonight he can only wait. Sitting down on the bed he kicked off his shoes and lay back on the bed. It still smells like Greg, pulling the pillow closer he closed his eyes and got lost in his memories.

XXX

Greg woke up feeling cold and nauseated, whatever was sprayed in is face was long worn off but side effects are still there. He tried to move but couldn't, it was dark and he found his hand cuffed to some kind of pipe.

"Hello?" There was no answer but he did find out that his voice echoed, so he was in a room that was most likely bare, his best guess is a bathroom or basement of some sorts. He had nothing to do but to sit back and wait for someone to find him, he was on the phone with Mycroft so that would help. He just hope that Mycroft would be okay.

XXX

John somehow fell asleep sometime during the night, Sherlock didn't, he did made some trips to the spare bedroom, Greg was good and he did his background thoroughly it was Duncan and the fact that Greg knew, was impressive.

At six, he put on the kettle, John can make the tea, he did his part. He need to go get Mycroft so they can go to the hospital. He made his way to the main bedroom and opened the door. His mouth opened to talk to his brother but his response died on his lips. Mycroft was on the bed, clutching Greg's pillow and during the night found Greg's gown to use as a blanket. He was asleep.

"Mycroft?" He tried but it was effective. Mycroft's eyes shot open.

"Sherlock?"

"It's time to get ready, we can have tea and then go to the hospital.

"Ill be right there." Mycroft responded as he got up, Sherlock closed the door behind him, giving him the much needed privacy.


	13. Chapter 13

** I see you **

** Chapter 13 **

** **

The door opened with a loud metallic clang, Greg was instantly awake and alert, he looked toward the door, and saw a figure but it was unclear who it was, or what it wanted.  Well, that is not exactly true, as he wanted Greg, the figure lifted up his arm and the room was bath in a bright fluorescent light.  He shut his eyes to protect it from the intensity and then slowly opened it.  The figure stepped into the room and walked towards him, because of the light he couldn’t see the face, but then again, he didn’t need to.

“Duncan.”  He said his voice a bit raw and dry.  The man laughed and grouched down.

“Detective.” Duncan smiled at Greg, and Greg knew the new wave of shivers that ran down his neck was the look in his eyes, not the cold.  A million things ran through his head, all of them from years of experience in negotiating, yet he stayed quiet.  It won’t help. Duncan wasn’t going to react to any of it, and Greg didn’t feel like humoring him or give him the satisfaction of trying to get him to let him go.  In response he just stared at Duncan while he stared back.

“Oh, you are either very brave or very stupid, either way; we are going to have so much fun.”

 

XXX

 

Mycroft followed Sherlock and John as they walked down the hallway to Mona’s room, he called ahead and informed the Yard of Greg’s disappearance and Detective Dimmock was assigned to the case, he would liaison between Mycroft’s men.  When they reached her door, they found him already there waiting for them.

“Mr. Holmes.”  Both Mycroft and Sherlock responded and then looked at each other.  Dimmock stepped closer.

“I informed the two officers, to give you clearance and everything else you might need.” 

“Thank you.”  Mycroft replied and opened the door. Before the all walked in Dimmock stopped them.

“Sirs, don’t get me wrong, but I was wondering if instead of bombarding miss Stephens with four men, maybe two can asked the questions and the other stand close to the door, as not to seem too intimidating.  I understand the severity of the situation, but I don’t want her to be too scared and frightened so that she doesn’t talk.”  Mycroft answered.

“That is a very good idea, if you don’t mind may I be one of them to ask questions?”  Dimmock nodded.

“Sure.”

“John and I will just observe.”  Sherlock replied. He would love to ask questions but Dimmock was right, he and John can watch, his brother needed to do this and so does Dimmock, besides.  Mycroft knows what questions to ask and Dimmock will allow Sherlock to ask if he gets stuck as well.  As they entered David was waiting for them.  With a nod to Mycroft he went and stood in the corner closest to Mona.  She watched him then turned to the group just entered.

Mycroft stepped forward and sat down closest to her.

“Miss. Stephens. I am Mycroft Holmes, I am Detective Inspector Lestrade’s partner and also responsible for David.”

She looked to him, then to David.

“You’re his boss?”

“yes. Detective Lestrade called me, and asked me to increase your protection.”

“He said that David is for me, to look after me first.”  Mycroft nodded

“Yes.”  Taking a breath and smoothing his voice he leaned in a bit closer.

“I trust that you have been informed of Detective Lestrade’s kidnapping?”  Mona nodded.

“Yes, but I don’t understand what this got to do with me.”

“Because whoever took you, took him, you see, Gregory…the detective knew who took you, and have been trying to catch him for a few days now, I know he told who it was, and when he asked you about it, you refused to talk about it.  I am here, asking you for your help in catching him and finding the detective.”  Mona swallowed and looked at them; her heart rate increase and she draw her knees up to her chest.

“I can’t talk; I can’t testify or say anything, what makes you think you can catch him?” 

“We will.”   Mycroft said and Dimmock explained

“You don’t have to testify, you don’t even have to be in the reports, when we catch him, the charges against the detective and the testimony he will give, will be enough.” 

“Why do you need me for?”

“Mona, you are the only one who escaped from this man that makes you incredible and strong, this also mean you are the only one who can give us a description of his place, of the area that would help us in finding him.  That’s all; just tell us, how you escaped, what he does and anything you can remember of the location.  Please.”  Mycroft added.  She swallowed and slowly reaches out her hand to touch his. 

“He is a monster, and he does horrible things, promise me he will never see the daylight again?”  Mycroft saw the fear in her eyes, he could see the pain and that she would take years to recover from this.

“Mona.” 

“If you can do this…” she pointed to David before looking back at him. “…you can make sure he won’t go free.”

“I promise.”  He replied knowing what she really is asking and he felt the same way.  If Duncan so much as hurt Gregory, he would make sure that custody is the last thing he needs to worry about.

“It was horrible.”   She started and a slow tear run down her face.

“He takes so much pleasure in hurting you, and you beg and beg him, but you can see it in his eyes, he enjoys it, the more you beg, the more he enjoys it.”  Mycroft closed his eyes while Dimmock made notes.  Mycroft opened his eyes and looked at his brother.  Sherlock was looking at him with concern and Mycroft didn’t mind.  This was hurting him, but he will make it.  At least she started to talk.

 

XXX

 

Greg tried to breathe but he was still choking on the alcohol, Duncan would wait till the coughing would stop and then he would force the bottle of Vodka in his mouth and pour the contents down his throat, he had no choice but to swallow. The bottle was about half now, and Duncan isn’t backing off, he is going to pour the whole bottle down his throat.  Greg tried to swallow as much as he can, but the high content and undiluted vodka was burning his throat, and upsetting his stomach.  Half of the liquid is running down his mouth and the whole front of his chest is wet and sticky now.

He tried to push Duncan away, but he punched Greg in the face then tied his hand with the other one against the pipe, making sure he doesn’t kick; Duncan sat on his lap and try as he might, and he couldn’t do anything but to swallow the alcohol.  The burning and choking making his heart beat faster, increasing his nausea and making him feel even more claustrophobic.  When the bottle was finally empty, Duncan stood up and threw the bottle away in the garbage bin that was standing against the wall.

Greg tried to get his focus back on Duncan but the alcohol on an empty stomach didn’t do too much to help him.   It was messing with his head, he wasn’t drunk, but on his empty stomach a full bottle of vodka was certainly influencing his mind.  He tried to keep his eyes on Duncan but he was standing at the end of the room, he could hear running water but then again, it could just be the alcohol.

 

 

XXX

 

Mona was staring ahead as she talked her pulse high and her eyes drowning in near tears.

“The room is bare, it’s like a bathroom but it was separate from the entire house or garage or barn…I don’t know… it stood alone…when the door opened I could see the outside, it was in the country, a farm most likely.  He would handcuff you to a pipe in the middle in the room and when he wasn’t with you, it would be pitch black. No sound, no light, and controlled air supply. It was claustrophobic.  Twice a day he would come in and you wished he never did.”

Mycroft looked down, sensory manipulation, classic tricks of the trade. Dimmock cleared his throat.

“What happened then?” 

“He would come in and switch the light on and then the real nightmare would start.  He forces you to drink a bottle of vodka…”

“A whole bottle?”  John asked from the doorway, his voice soft and full of concern.  Mona nodded.

“Yes, he would sit on you so you can’t move or fight back and he forced the bottle in your mouth and you would swallow and choke but he didn’t care, he didn’t stop until the entire bottle was finished.” 

Tears were running freely down her face now as she remembered.  Mycroft reached out his hand to offer her some comfort.  She turned to him.

“That’s just the beginning.  He kills you.”

They four men looked at each other in confusion, how does he kill you if she survived?  Did he pretend to kill you?  Is it mentally?  They turned to her, no one really sure how to ask the next part.

 

XXX

 

Duncan dragged Greg to the bathtub, he was too weak to fight and the alcohol making his actions slow and uneven.  Duncan dragged him to edge and Greg could see it was filled with water.  It actually looked nice and cooled.  He hasn’t had water of food since the night before and with the alcohol he was parched.  Duncan stood behind him, his hands on Greg’s hair, gripping it tightly, he leaned closer. 

“This where the real fun starts, let’s see how long you last under water before you drown.”  Greg blinked as he tried to understand, but it was too late, Duncan shoved his head under water and Greg struggled.  The water was ice cold and sobered him up immediately.   He couldn’t breathe, the water all around him pouring into his ears and nose and he tried to keep him mouth closed but couldn’t.  His mouth opened in reflex and the water rushed into his mouth, down his throat, it burnt worse than the alcohol. He used every last bit of strength he had to fight back, to get out, but the grip was too tight.  His whole body shook and seized up in a desperate attempt for oxygen, that didn’t come.  His vision faded to black and slowly his body stopped moving until he completely stopped.  Duncan counted to ten then he pulled Greg out of the water and let him fall on the floor.  He looked down at Greg smiling.  Greg didn’t see anything, his face was pale and his dark brown eyes were staring ahead, the light was out.

“Oh isn’t this fun?” Duncan exclaimed as stood over Greg.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**I see you**

**Chapter 14**

 

With a choking and sputtering of water Greg was brought back to life.  Duncan was kneeling next to him, his hands folded on his thighs as he watches how Greg tried to get his breathing under control.  

“Y…you d-did c…p…r…”  Greg muttered between coughs.  Duncan just smiled.

“I did, as much as I like to see you dead, I am not done with you.”  Greg stared at his, his anger and fury evident.  Duncan didn’t look at all bothered, instead his smile just got wider.  Standing up he walked to the side of the room his hand held out in an invitation.

“So come on, I bet you have burning questions.”  Greg didn’t take the bite; he just shifted so he was sitting upright against the wall, a few water droplets running down his face.  He was cold and hungry and tired and had a killer headache, either a result of the alcohol or the fact that he was just drowned and resuscitated.   Duncan was right, he had so many questions, but he didn’t feel like asking a single one, the less he talks to this man the better.

“Come on detective, I have places to be, so ask what you want.”  Duncan said his eyes still on Greg. “And, what you will answer?”  Greg finally asked.  Duncan nodded.

“Yes, of course, I do have manners you know.”

“Splendid, at least you got that.”  Greg replied sarcastically.  Duncan stopped smiling and walked closer and like before kneeled down so that his legs pinned Greg to the ground. Greg tried to shake him off but he was stronger, with one hand he held Greg’s tied hands down and grabbed Greg by the collar.

“Be nice.”  Greg growled and struggled but it was to no avail.

“So let’s try this again, do you have any pressing questions before I leave?”   Greg stopped moving, not because he gave up, but because he was tired and his body was failing him.

“How long was I dead?”  He finally asked.

“Five minutes, after that it gets difficult to revive, and the chance of brain damage sets in.  Anything else?”

“How long do you do this before you kill them for real?”  If this is how he is going to die, he might as well be prepared.

“Oh I do kill you for real, maybe I should take a picture next time?  Show you, hey I know, we can send one to your ‘lover’…” He emphasized the word lover in a mocking tone.   Greg’s cold body got even colder.  Fear overcame him with the idea that Mycroft would see him like that.  He can’t let Duncan send him a picture like that.  Him being dead.  It would hurt Mycroft, and it would break him.  Duncan smiled at the obvious fear in Greg’s eyes and went on. 

“…I’m sure he would be really interested in seeing you like that, I heard it can be upsetting, seeing the dead cold body of a loved one… and to answer your question, I do kill you for real, but you want to know, how many times do I kill you before letting you stay dead?  Oh depends on my mood really, and I can tell you, my mood with you, is very patient.” Duncan let go of Greg and stood up.  He looked at the time.

“Well this has been fun and I really wished I could stay longer but I need to go, so you stay here and I’ll see you later.”  Duncan removed a small lighter like canister and held it to Greg. This will let you sleep about an hour.  I’ll try to be as quick as I can.” 

“No, don’t.” Greg tried to hold out his hands but Duncan sprayed the gas and Greg fell over to his side, unconscious. 

 

 

XXX

 

Mycroft stood against the tree his hands shaking as he tried to hold the cigarette.  It didn’t work much and the swirling smoke was making patterns from the vibration.  John was sitting down on the bench his head in his hand.  Sherlock stood next to Mycroft, his hands were steady, but he was in his mind palace so the cigarette just burned, one long line of ash against the filter.  Dimmock was on the phone.  He looked as if he wanted to throw up.  In a way they all do.  Mona told the whole story and it was something out of a horror movie.  A James Patterson or Patricia Cornwell novel even, not real life.  

Sherlock’s cigarette must be finished as he shook his hand, the ash probably burned him, he look down and threw the whole thing in the ashtray.   

“Anthea needs to check the surrounding areas from Mona’s story it sounds like she didn’t walk that far before she was picked up.  The changes that we are in the same vicinity is good.”   Mycroft turned to him and saw that the shock and fear was mirrored in his brother.  The knowledge what he is doing to Greg, what he is going to do, he most likely have already started, and it shocks them both.  Somewhere out there Greg is going through hell, and they have no idea where he is, or how to find him. 

“I updated her, she will have the cameras checked out, as well as Duncan’s credit card records and his whereabouts for the past week, everywhere he was, we will pick up.”  Sherlock nodded and took out a new cigarette, he held one out to Mycroft who had finished his, move his hand to take one.  Sherlock saw the shakes and took hold of Mycroft’s hand.  Mycroft was startled and looked up. 

“He is strong, he will be fine.”  

“Oh brother mine, I thank you for the comfort, but we both know, that what she described will get to him eventually, to all of us.” 

“It doesn’t mean that he won't fight back.”  Sherlock retorted, and Mycroft knew, the need to reassure himself stronger than the need to comfort Mycroft.   John had stood up and was standing close, listening.

“He didn’t receive training in torture, Duncan is using most of the torture method categories.  first of all is sensory manipulation, no light or noise, second; environmental manipulation, a cold room third is physical distress…” 

“We were there Doctor Watson.”  Mycroft interrupted and both heard the slight tremor in his voice.  You really had to know Mycroft to knew it was there.  He looked to them.  

“He may not have had training, but he is strong and stubborn and tenacious, the fact remains he will hold on, he was on the phone with me, when he was taken, he know we are trying to find him, and find him we will.”  Mycroft stood firm in his belief that they would find Greg, the question is in what condition, and all three of them were thinking the same thing, but none commented on that.  

Mycroft closed his eyes as he remembered Greg’s’ voice. “Find me.”   Then he remembered Mona as she talked “the last thing you remember is the burning of your lungs as you drown and then the first thing you are aware off is his mouth on yours as he give back the life he just took.”   He literary kills you, then saves you, how sadistic is he?  

“According to her story, if I work out the times he visit her, and the times he k…kills her, we have about two to three days before he takes them out to the field to….to…” Sherlock started strong but the more he spoke, the weaker his voice got.  Mycroft finished for him.

“Before he makes them dig their own grave and kills them.”  He heard, he made his own calculations.  John looked towards them.

“Don’t get me wrong, but Greg was on to him, the first time they met?”  Mycroft nodded. 

“Yes, he came home, convinced he was a serial killer.”

“And Duncan knew Greg was on to him.?”  

“Yes, he taunted Greg in the classroom.”   Mycroft replied, remembering their talk, that feels years ago.

“And Greg used to date, his current girlfriend when they were still at college?” John asked, and both brothers turned to him.

“What are you saying John?” 

“Yes doctor Watson, what are you implying?”   John held out his hands.

“I am not trying to imply anything, but is it possible that he has it in for Greg and therefore will may be out to hurt him more?”  The silence hang in the air as they consider what this means.  Greg is in real serious trouble, and Duncan may have no mercy at all on him.  Mycroft closed his eyes as he tried to get his emotions under control.   They all were in thought as Dimmock joined them.

“The university says Tallulah took a week off for personal reasons, and flew out to Italy yesterday morning.  Duncan on the other hand, hasn’t been seen and it looks like he is skipping all his classes.  Told a friend he is going on a romantic weekend away with a girlfriend.” 

Mycroft opened his eyes.  He already broke the pattern by taking Greg, on top of that his girlfriend, who used to date Greg, broke of their relationship and took off, and he stopped going to class.  

“Duncan will make mistakes, now more than ever, he is angry and that is overruling his objectivity, he is impulsive and greedy. It makes catching him, easier.”  Sherlock said.  

“The problem is, where did he go, and did he take enough food and supplies to last or will he come out of hiding to get more?”  John asked as he looked to them.

“He has supplies, if he has a house in the countryside, be sure that it would be stocked, he planned on taking Greg, he was meticulous in that, and most certainly made the necessary arrangements.  We will have to find him, without his mistakes. “  Mycroft supplied. 

They all groaned, this makes things that much harder. 

 

 

XXX

 

 

Greg was unsure when he woke up again whether it was morning or evening or how long time had passed.  He was still thirsty, and hungry, not so tired anymore as he was asleep for some time.  He still had a bad headache and could feel that there was still some alcohol in his system, together with his nausea of whatever it was that Duncan sprayed to knock him out, he didn’t dare to move for the fear of throwing up.  The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with the smell of vomit.  He closed his eyes to stem the overwhelming need to throw up and tried to relax.  

His mind immediately went to Mycroft, who knew he was gone and most likely already searching for him.  No doubt he would’ve called Sherlock and John and a few of his men.  He just needed to hold on for as long as he could.  Mycroft will find him and take him away from this place.  Opening his eyes, there was no difference, either way it was pitch black and dead silent.  He could feel something running over his cheek and knew it was a tear.  He missed home, he missed Mycroft.  Taking a deep breath he tried to strengthen himself.  He would not give Duncan the satisfaction of seeing him weak, Duncan will not break him.  He might have killed him, but he will not be broken by that man.  He did try to prepare himself for the repeat of this hell Duncan is putting him through, but he couldn’t.  How do you prepare yourself to die, and be brought back to life again?  How do you prepare yourself for water that will drowned your lungs, removing the air and the burning hot sensation as you slowly die?  He chocked out loudly in the room and it echoed.   This place is making him crazy and he hasn’t even been here long, or has he?  He doesn’t know.  What he did know was that he could understand how Mona didn’t want to talk about this.  He never wants to talk about this if he somehow miraculous survive this. 

He tried to move, but it was to dark, the place was bare, so he didn’t need to worry about bumping into anything, but there was nowhere to go.  The door was locked with a chain and padlock and with no windows or furniture he had absolutely nothing to do, but wait, and be tormented by his own thoughts.  

An image of his death came to mind and how his body must look, and then he thought how there is no way Mycroft can see that.  Just the idea if the roles were to be reversed is enough to frighten him.  Seeing Mycroft on the cold floor, eyes open but unseeing, God no.  It would be hell. 

Closing his eyes he forced himself to think happy thoughts, of happy memories he had and know he must do everything he can to make it.  Mycroft is waiting for him, they have a future together, he has to be there to make it real.  Forgetting about his bound hands, the pain in his body, he thought about Mycroft. 

“Find me.”  He whispered into the darkness, and this time there was no echo.

 

XXX

 

Somehow it became that Greg’s place was the get together point for everyone, all information and videos Anthea required was send there.  Dimmock ignored the wall with photos, taking the most he could, closing the door and spread out on his living room table.  Bradbury was helping as it was a kidnapping and he was up to date with Duncan.  Mycroft stood in the corner as Greg’s living room was full of people and files and papers and noise, and closed his eyes, opening it, they were all gone, instead the table was filled with take away containers and he and Greg was snuggling close on the sofa, soft music playing in the background.  The were having dinner and talking, and stealing kisses after a few bites.  It was quiet, serene and perfect.  A file fell somewhere and there was a loud cussing and Mycroft was shaken out of his memory.   Opening his eyes, his eyes found his brother and instead of saying anything he turned around and went to the kitchen, needing a moment to put the mask back on.  He could trust Sherlock with the videos and case, he will figure all of this out.

 

XXX

 

The padlock and chain sounded loud in the silence as the door opened.  Greg was able to see outside for a moment and realized it was night, he was taken at night, so he must have been here for a day already, feels longer.  

“Aaah Detective you are awake.  Good.  Look here, I brought a present.”  Duncan closed the door and held out a bag, Greg’s hope and heart plummet to the ground, it was a camera.  Duncan stepped closer and put the camera down next to the bottle of vodka.  Greg tried his best to keep his face neutral.  He can’t go through with this again.

“So, I was going to get better lighting and dress up, but then again, I’m not the star of the show, you are, and you look perfect.  Let’s begin shall we?” 

 


	15. Chapter 15

** I See you **

** Chapter 15 **

 

The worst part is that even though you know it is coming, you can’t prepare yourself for it, and Duncan knows that, he gets off on that.  The thing is, your body goes into limbo, and your brain is waiting for the next attack, it knows what to expect so it would give the necessary adrenalin and focus on that what comes next.  Vodka, drowning, resuscitation.  All of it, against your will and your mind fights against it.  On top of that, there is a camera, so it makes every emotion, that fight or flight worse, because it is something new into the mix.

Either way he wasn’t prepared for it, any of it, he tried but failed. He put up even more of a fuss when Duncan poured the vodka down his throat, which resulted in a punch and a kick, but still, there was a bit more than last time on his shirt.  Greg realized the alcohol was a clever idea; it disorientated your victim, clouds their minds, subdues them and makes the experience more horrific.  A cheap trick, cheap but effective.  Plus, it makes you thirsty so when you see and hear the water, your mind gives you hope, just for Duncan to take it away. 

He tries to fight back, everything in him is trying, but the alcohol makes everything slower, and he hasn’t had water and food in a day, it is taking its toll on his body, he wonders whether he kills them by letting them stay drowned, or does their bodies just give in, when it can’t take anymore?

The bottle fell with a loud clash and rolled away to the end of the room.  Greg didn’t care as he just stared ahead, the idea of keeping focus has gone, and the nausea had returned.  He was going to throw up, and it’s going to be soon, his stomach can’t take so much alcohol in one day with no food or water, not to mention his liver. 

“I’m very disappointed in you, thought you would make it easier on yourself, but then again, I do love a challenge.”

“Piss off.”  Greg mumbled, he always had a cheeky streak after a few, and now is no difference. 

“Is that anyway to talk to the man, who is torturing to you?”  Duncan asked innocently.  Greg narrowed his eyes.

“You’re right. Fuck you.” Duncan shook his head before he leaned in closer and punched Greg through the face again.  The impact hits Greg’s nose and the blood started running down, messing his shirt and diluting the soaked vodka.  Greg sniveled and tried to stem the bleeding but Duncan stopped him by grabbing his bound hands and half drag half throw him against the bathtub.  The water was still in there from the previous time and Greg could kick himself, why didn’t he try to drink it before?  ‘Because you don’t really want to drink the water you died in do you?’  The voice in his head supplied.  Well, not really no.  Duncan left him and Greg knew it was to get his camera.

Seeing the water so cold and calm he wondered if it was possible to die from fear, because he was terrified, beyond scared into a whole new level.  It won’t even help to take a deep breath before Duncan pushed his head in, it will only prolong his suffering.  What if Duncan didn’t to this, what if he beat his victims?  ‘That would be better.’ He thought he would rather take a few bruises than this; this is messing with his mind.

“Cindy Peterson.” His voice was raw, gravely. 

“What did you say?”

“Cindy, the first girl, who drowned, it made an impact on you when you were small, seeing her drowning and how they tried to save her, that’s why you do this.”

“Shut up.” Duncan growled and grabbed him by his hair to lift him up. Greg yelled as he was lifted as he was forced on his knees looking over the tub.  God no. 

“Now, since we are making a video, we need to work together on this.  So I’ll be standing closer...” Duncan talked as he moved so that he was standing behind Greg, his whole body pinning Greg against the tub.  He used all of the strength he could to push Duncan away, but it didn’t work, Duncan was too strong.  He was aware that one of Duncan’s hands was still in his hair, the other was stretch out.  He was holding the camera.  Every fiber in his body repelled to the idea, the drowning, the dying, the camera everything, he tried to struggle but only aggravated the wounds on his wrist further, the skin was raw.  
Duncan leaned down.

“Let’s make it a winner performance.”  With that he pushed Greg down into the water.  He eyes were open and the water around him turned red with the blood on his face.  The water burned his nose, his throat and he struggled, he fought, he tried.  He can’t let Mycroft see this.  With one last tried he pushed upwards and it must have worked because Duncan he felt both of his hands as he forced him down the water.  He must have dropped the camera, but Greg didn’t register the small victory as his vision faded, his body slowly stopped struggling until finally he stopped moving at all. 

Duncan let go and turned around, picking up the camera he saw that it was still working, he turned back to Greg, slumped over, the red light blinking.  Reaching out, he took Greg by the collar and pulled him out and backwards.  Greg’s body fell on the floor, the water and diluted blood running down his face and pooling underneath his head.  He zoomed in on his face, the eyes staring ahead and switches the camera off. 

“Brilliant. “

 

XXX

 

Mycroft stood in the kitchen, his hands automatically making the tea.  He didn’t know how many people were in the living room so he just filled the tray with mugs.  He wanted tea, Anthea as well, the rest will take coffee.  Sherlock and John would take whatever.  He filled the tea pot with water and half the mugs with coffee.  Just as he was about to pick up the tray, Greg’s phone buzzed.  Frowning he put it down, the tray half resting on the counter, the other half in the air, he didn’t notice.  He kept Greg’s phone close to him, taking messages whoever might call and just to have something close to him.  The message was from an unknown number and when he opened it, it was a video.  On top of it, was a message.

** “To the detective’s lover.   Thought I might share a homemade video with you, Greg is spectacular in it.” **

Mycroft ‘s hand started to shake, no, no, this… he doesn’t send videos….John’s words earlier that day…. He has it in for Greg….. His fingers trembled as he clicked on the message the few seconds it took to download seemed to take ages.  The video opened and filled the whole screen.  Mycroft gasped as he saw Greg, blood running down his face, his hands bound and pinned against the tub. 

“NO.” He cried out, unaware that it was loud.  He watched as Greg was submerged, he watched the water turned red and how his partner struggled.  He watched the whole thing, unable to move his face away or stopped the video.  He was glued to the floor, he watched as Greg somehow got Duncan to lose the camera and the little hope he had vanished when the camera was picked up and show the still life of Greg in the tub, his heart stopped when Greg was pulled to the floor, his face pale and his open.

He could feel the shock overcame him as he lost his balance and fell against the counter, his body tipping the tray, the whole tray with mugs fell to the floor with a crash, broken pieces of glass everywhere, the tea and coffee pooling together around his shoes, splattering his trousers.  He didn’t t know. He wasn’t aware of anything, not even when Sherlock grabbed him to hold him up.

“Mycroft!” His brother’s voice mixed with John, the concern mirrored.  Mycroft didn’t say anything as he handed the phone to Sherlock before his knees gave out.  John grabbed the phone as Sherlock supported his brother, clutching his Belsstaff as if his life depended on it.  Sherlock looked towards John and John looked at Sherlock.

“He sent a video of what he did to Greg.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

** I see you **

** Chapter 16 **

 

When Mycroft finally came too, he was warm and comfortable.   He looked around and saw that he was in Greg’s bed, and he was half naked.  He looked around and noticed he wasn’t alone.  His brother was sitting on the bed next to him, straight up with his knees drawn up and back against the headboard.  

“How long was I out?”  Mycroft finally asked as he shifted so that he was half leaning at the headboard.    Sherlock turned to him.

“Seven hours.” 

“The video?”  He asked he didn’t want to see it again; he wanted nothing to do with it, ever again.  It still upsets him, and will forever.  He keeps seeing Greg struggling for breath as he was being drowned.  Twice now.  He killed Greg twice now, which meant that in the past day he had to live with the fact that his partner was literally dead from the world.  Dead. As in no heartbeat, no brain activity.  He swallowed as he tried to keep his emotions in check.  Sherlock stared at him.

“You need to find a way to delete those images from your mind.”

“How?  Did you see it?  He killed him.  Dead. Not unconscious…not ill, not beat up… dead. Twice now. Did you see the time stamp?  Gregory was dying and I was making tea.  He died and I made refreshments.” Mycroft voice rose higher and Sherlock grabbed his hands.

“Stop!”  Mycroft froze and stared at his brother. 

“He killed him Sherlock, he killed Gregory.”

“I know…I saw.”  Sherlock said as he let go of his brother.  Mycroft grabbed his brother’s arm.

“When we find him, I promise you, he won’t live long enough to be arrested.”

“I know.”  They shared a look before Mycroft let Sherlock go.

“Who undressed me?” 

“Me and Anthea, John gave you something for shock and you were out like a light.”  He nodded as he moves to get up.  A clean pair of clothes was hanging against the wardrobe.  Sherlock stood against the wall watching his brother as he got dressed.  He had no idea how Mycroft is coping with this, if it was John…..

“Sherlock?’  Mycroft voice was soft.  Sherlock looked at him.

“Thank you.  John was right you know.”

“About?”

“I don’t think I can do this.”   Sighing he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I want him back Sherlock, I want Gregory back. Safe and away from that man.”  Sherlock didn’t know how to reply so he sat next to his brother.  Truth is so did he?  He wanted Greg safe as well, and he can go on about how it’s about the cases and the puzzles, the truth is, he is very fond of Greg, as Greg always went out of his way to help him, especially in the beginning.  And ever since he and Mycroft started dating he could see the difference in his brother.  If they don’t find Greg, he would lose his brother and no amount of puzzles will prevent that. 

“Anthea has found out that his family used to have property, but some of the files got lost before it was encoded into digital format.  His car was last seen at a Tesco’s out on the A316 from Richmond.  Mona remembered the sound of planes, but it still might take some time to narrow down.” Sherlock opted for facts and certainties than a motivational speech.  That was John’s area, but John was just more upset at the video than the rest of them.  Bradbury smoked half a packed of cigarettes, Anthea lost her tight control and tried to hide the fact that she cried silently.  The rest tried to keep busy by cleaning up the kitchen floor and going out to buy new mugs.  Greg has about four sets of six all in different designs and colors. Mycroft stood up.

“It’s time Greg doesn’t have Sherlock.  Two days, that’s four attempts on his life which meant Greg is going do die twice today, again, before he is made to dig his own grave tomorrow.  It might be longer because Duncan apparently hates him a bit more, so he might have more in store for Greg. The video most certainly is something new.”  His hands were still shaking slightly and Sherlock knew, he needed to eat something, the chances are that his brother hasn’t eaten in a few days is strong as he himself hasn’t had a chance to eat.  He had a chance, he just didn’t wanted to.  He stood up and followed his brother out the room. 

“Your team is working on it; they have managed so far to trace the signals in the Feltham area, but are trying to lock it down more.”  Mycroft walked out to the living room, to see it was still filled with papers and empty mugs, mugs he didn’t recognize; they must have bought new ones.  John was on the sofa, stretched out and sleeping.

He walked towards the kitchen.  Speaking to Sherlock who he knew followed him.

“Did they find anything else on the video?  Mona said that when she was alone there was no sound, but with Duncan, maybe when he entered the room or left, or maybe he didn’t close the door properly.”

“That’s what Sherlock also assumed; he asked to have the background noises examined.”   Both men turned to John who stood in the doorway, fully awake and alert, his medical gaze trained on Mycroft. 

Mycroft didn’t reply as he stood in the kitchen unsure of what to do, he wanted tea, but he didn’t, maybe coffee or a snack or something to eat but just the thought of it makes him nauseas.   With a deep sigh he looked around, they were all in Greg’s home, using his stuff to find him, and he is being tortured.

Life can be so unfair.  

“I take it everyone is on some errand to find out where Gregory is?” They nodded.   John was still trying to asses if Mycroft was okay.  Mycroft turned to him.

“I am not okay, Doctor Watson, but I am coping, I won’t break apart in the next few minutes so please stop looking at me, as if I am a ticking time bomb.  I appreciate your concern; I really do, but please just ease up.”

“Good luck with that.” Sherlock said with there was no malice.  John shrugged.  It was so domestic, and Mycroft wanted to scream.  It was morning, and the possibility that Greg have been killed again either has already happened or is about to.  He wondered if he was going to receive another video.  He didn’t even know where Greg’s phone is.  He straightened up and walked towards the living room, his eyes searching as he picked up papers and files.

“What are you looking for?” John asked but Sherlock knew.

“They took it with them.  To analyze.”  Mycroft looked at his brother, his face angry.

“Why?  They can download it and take it, what if someone calls, what if he send another video.  It’s Greg’s phone and I need it!” 

“Mycroft they need it.”  John tried, not even bothering to say that maybe it is a good thing, because if he reacted that way to one video clip, how will he react to another one?

“No! I need it!” Mycroft yelled and then sat down on the sofa.  He opened the nearest laptop.  He started typing and taking his phone from his pocket he started making calls.   John and Sherlock shared a look, there is no way they can leave Mycroft alone, no matter how much they wanted to be out there looking for Greg, when they find him, the location, the needed to be there first, and then they can be part of the chase.

 

XXX

 

Greg was in shock, he knew it, either shock or some sort of disengagement.  His mind has been blank since the third time he was drowned, ten minutes ago.  Duncan didn’t take a new video clip; no he wanted the experience to be more intimate so he brought in a big mirror.  This allowed Greg to see himself, as he was being tortured.  He had a first row seat as Duncan poured the third bottle of vodka down his throat, and he knew it was starting to have a serious effect on his organs.  Two days without food and water and three bottles of vodka is really taking its toll.  His face hurt and was swollen from the punch he received earlier, and with a broken nose it was even worse to try and breathe. 

His mind tried to reboot, but he couldn’t, he was tired and weak.  He remembered that Duncan sent the video to his old phone which was in Mycroft possession, so he saw it.  Greg’s heart ached for his partner, seeing that.  He wished he could take that away from him, that’s when he realized that his worry and concern for Mycroft was stronger than the worry for his life.  He gave up on that, he didn’t mean to, but the third time Duncan’s mouth was on his, bringing him back to life he wished he didn’t, he wanted to beg Duncan to let him die, and it is only his stubbornness that prevented him from doing it.  Duncan won’t and he would just enjoy it more.

His leg started to cramp, and it was from either the alcohol or his position.  He was still lying on his back, with his legs twisted strangely from where he fell on the floor next to the tub.  He needed to move and with a groan he just managed to shift so he was on his side.    His body automatically curled into a fetal position, a futile effort to protect itself from harm.  Most of the harm was happening inside, anyhow.

It was pitch black and dead silent.  The silence was broken with a sob as he started to cry.   He wondered how Mycroft reacted when he saw the video, his heart breaking for his partner to see that, he tried; he really did try so hard to keep that from happening.   He wondered if Sherlock had seen it, he wondered if they made progress on finding him, he wondered a lot of things, but he didn’t dare to wonder if he would make it out of this alive.  He did, in the beginning, now, now he wasn’t so sure anymore.  Dying can do that to you.  He started coughing through the tears, and knew he should stop, he should stop crying, Duncan will see, and will enjoy that just a little more than was allowed, and considering he didn’t allow anything, that was saying something.   He was thirsty and his distaste for drinking water that he died in, lost some of the appeal and with his body shaken he lifted himself to the tub, the first time he went willingly to the lean against the tub, his hands reached out to the water, it was pitched black but he knew exactly where the water level was.  He tried to scoop a few hands full but his trembling hands didn’t hold the water as he tried to drink, a few drops at the most.  His mind was telling him that he can lean forward and drink it, just like an animal, but he refused.  Not because it was animal like, but he might go willingly to the water, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to willingly dunk his head in this tub, or any tub for that matter ever again.  Willing his hands to stop trembling he reach both in and scooped the water and drank, it helped and there was a tangy taste, his blood.  It didn’t help his nausea but he forced himself to drink.  He needed something besides alcohol in his system.  After a few handfuls he sagged back against the tub.  He wondered if he could take Duncan unaware.  How? What will he do?

“I didn’t take you for a quitter Graham.” 

“Greg.”  He answered back on auto.  Sherlock’s voice sounded loud in the room and Greg had to look around before realizing he imagined it.  Great so now his mind is finally giving in.  On top of that he was replying.

“Whatever.  I stand by my point, I didn’t know my brother types was a quitter.”

“I’m not.”

“Well giving up, making peace with your death, again, is not the sign of a fighter.”

“And talking to an imaginary you is?” 

“We both know, it is you’re trying to cope with the trauma, why you would imagine me and not Mycroft – that is interesting.”

“Shut up.”

“Only if you stop with this giving up crap and fight back.”

“Fine.” 

The room went quiet.  Greg closed his eyes and took a few breaths.  He can do this, what it is, he doesn’t know, but it has to be something.  There’s no way he can die in this room, without some kind of fighting chance.  He just had to think.  That proved to be problematic in his weakened state.  Closing his eyes he leaned back against the wall and tried to think. He had no phone, but Duncan has, but does he wear it, when he comes here to torture him?  Is there even signal in this place?  And if there was, why haven’t they traced Duncan’s phone, unless it was off? He really must try and pay attention, the next time Duncan gets here.  With that thought slowly blossoming in his mind like a seed of hope he fell asleep.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

** I see you **

** Chapter 17 **

 

Greg woke up to the sounds of the padlock opening and closed his eyes to prepare himself for the light.  The door slid open but he didn’t hear it close again, that in itself was strange.  The light switched on he gave himself five seconds to get accustomed to the light before he opened his eyes.  Duncan was standing in the doorway and two things stood out.

One, he was wearing wellingtons, he never did before. 

Two, there was no bottle of vodka; instead it was a bottle of some protein shake. 

It threw him for a loop, what the hell is the man’s plan now?  However he had to focus so he watched the pockets, trying to see the outline for a phone. He didn’t, but then again, maybe in his butt pocket.  How to find out, it’s not like he can ask him to turn around so he can check his pockets.  He kept quiet as Duncan walked closer and held out the bottle of protein shake.

“Here, drink this.”

“No vodka?”  Greg countered, and he could kick himself for his remark, the last thing he wanted to do, was piss Duncan off.  But if he starts to play along, then he just might get suspicious.  From the look on his face, he acted right, because he smirked, not the ‘oh you’re so funny’ smirk, no, it was the ‘keep it up; you have no idea how this is going to end for you’.  That one was worse.  Duncan moved closer and grouched down. 

“You are going to need this.  I broke you down and I need to rebuild just a little for tonight’s plans.”

Greg’s heart skipped a beat at those words.  What the hell?  His eyes glanced to the door, still open.  Duncan turned his head and then back at Greg, he reach out his hand and place it on Greg’s cheek in a comforting manner.  Greg hated it.

“Tonight, you will see the stars for the last time, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a sunrise as well, but you understand how these things are, can’t be too lenient.” 

Greg stared at him, every sarcastic comment died on his tongue, his mind tried to prepare him to tell him that he is lying; it is just another trick to make the experience more terrifying, the adrenalin worse.  The look in Duncan’s eyes killed that hope, that voice, he was serious, dead serious.  With his hope diminishing he wanted to scream and cry, and Duncan knew it.  He saw it and just held out the bottle.

“What if I don’t?”  Greg managed to ask.

“You would only make things worse for you.” 

“Oh thank you for your concern.  It’s warming my heart.”  Well since he is most likely going to die tonight, he might as well be his usual witty self. 

“Yeah not for long though.  Keep it up; I might just miss these little remarks.” 

“How kind of you.”  Greg replied and opened the bottle.  It was some power booster protein and whatever the plan for him is tonight, he doesn’t really want to know.  He took a sip, and had to admit, it was good, after nothing but vodka and blood diluted water, this was heaven.  He drank half of it in one go.  Duncan stood up and walked to the door to look out.  Greg used the opportunity to look at his jeans; there wasn’t an outline in the seams so no mobile phone.  He can’t let this get him down; he needed to keep his hope up.  He must fight hallucination Sherlock will never forgive him if he doesn’t.  What bothers him the most is that Duncan is not closing the door, does that mean whatever he has in store for him is going to be outside?  He did say last evening, or star show…

“Shouldn’t you be closing the door?”  His voice sounded much better now that he had something else to drink, the burning in his throat is almost gone. 

“Why don’t want to let the warm atmosphere dissipate?”

“Yeah, exactly.”  Duncan laughed.  Greg finished the rest of the shake and put the bottle down.

“So tell me, since I’m about to die, why exactly did you broke your pattern with me?”

“Because you knew me, and weren’t afraid to tell everyone exactly how ‘bad’ I am, and because Tallulah still liked you.”

“You are bad, in fact you’re straight down one evil son of a beach and that’s her problem she apparently had a thing for younger murderers, and I am happy in a relationship.”

“With a man.  You should’ve seen how upset she was with that, here she was wearing low cut blouses and her hair all neat and you wanted a man.”

“Don’t care.  So exactly how are you planning on getting away with my murder, because you see, my partner is a very very smart man, and he will find you, and he will make you regret it.”  Greg voice lowered with anger.  He knew it was true, Mycroft would show no mercy with this man, years of seeing him with Sherlock proved that, he is very overprotective.

“Oh, I have an alibi, besides he can’t touch me, I know my rights.”

Greg burst out laughing.

“You dumb fuck!”  He yelled out. 

“Mycroft doesn’t care about that, he will find you, wherever you decided to hide you miserable piece of shit, and he will make you regret the day your mother gave birth to you.” 

Duncan stared and lost his temper he walked over to Greg and punched him before he picked up threw Greg towards the tub, and without his hands, Greg couldn’t balance himself and fell in, the water was cold as ice as it covered him. Fear overtook him as he struggled to keep his head above the water.  He was aware of hands grabbing his shirt and forced his body down. 

“Fight Greg!” this time it was both Sherlock and Mycroft who yelled in his ears.  Using his legs he kicked up and that broke Duncan’s hold on him and fall.  Greg broke through the water with a deep breath coughing up the water.  Duncan moved back and grabbed him and pulled him out, the fell to the floor and Duncan climbed on top of him holding him down.

“You are going to regret that, I will enjoy taking your life tonight and see you suffer!”

“Fuck you.”  Greg growled out as he tried to push him off, but couldn’t.  Duncan had his hands around Greg’s neck and was squeezing.  Greg choked as his air supply was cut off.  His vision faded and his hands slowly slacked until he lost consciousness.  Duncan let go and felt for a pulse, feeling one he smiled and got up.  He looked down at Greg and for good measure kicked him in the stomach. 

“Okay, let’s go dig, shall we?”  He said into the room. 

 

XXX

 

My midday, they had a whole timeline for Duncan and narrow down his area.  His car was last seen at a garage just off the highway into the small town of Feltham.

“Where the phone signals came from?”  Mycroft said and picked up his phone.

“What are you doing?”  Dimmock asked.

“Arranging for a car, I suggest you get a unit to that area as well.”  He turned to his brother and John.

“Come on.”  They followed him out to his car and now that Mycroft somehow had a destination in sight, he moved with precise movements.  He had no idea whether that is the place where Greg is, but as he used to tell Sherlock, there is no such thing as a coincidence.  He had to find Greg, and he had to do it today.  This couldn’t wait.   Sherlock and John climbed into the car silent and watching Mycroft.   Mycroft looked at John.

“Doctor Watson, are you armed or do we need to stop by Baker Street, if you’d like I can acquire you another weapon if you so choose?” John looked at John his face set.

“I am armed.”

“Good.”  Mycroft replied and continued on his phone.  John looked at Sherlock, with a question in his eyes and Sherlock answered back with one look. ‘Yes he expects you to use it’ John nodded and flexed his hands as they drove. 

The car ride was silent but tense some sort of composure has come back to Mycroft and he prepared himself that whatever happens, he will find Greg tonight.  Sitting back against the seat he closed his eyes, he needed to do some thinking.

 

XXX

 

Greg came to when he felt something wet and cold in his face, he startled awake, his eyes blinking, it was dark, the last remnants of the sun setting.  He looked around, he was outside, in some country side, surrounded by trees and he could hear a plane in the distance, he must be close to the airport. 

“Wakey wakey.” Duncan singsong out.  Greg groaned as he tried to sit up. He was on the back of truck, a very old one, his hands were no longer bound together, and instead one was tied to the truck.

“Come on, we got plans.” Duncan said as he undid Greg’s tied hand.  His wrists were raw and bleeding.  Greg tried to get up or move, but his body was still in limbo.  As he moved his feet caught something and hope flared, maybe it was a pipe?  He looked down and froze.  It was a shovel.  Oh god, he added the facts in his head, that’s why none of the missing girls has ever been found, not even a body.  He buries them. 

“You bastard. You bury them?”  He asked his voice raw and throat sore from being strangled.

“No, detective, they bury themselves.” Duncan replied in a smooth voice.  Greg’s eyes widened in shock and Duncan started laughing. 

“That’s correct, I just dug the outline, to break through the ground, they dig their own grave and then I killed them one last time and bury them.”  He pointed to a barrel and touched it swished with the contents and Greg knew it was filled with water.  The man was one hell of twisted arse.  Duncan leaned closer to Greg and whispered.

“But for you, I’m breaking my pattern again. You will dig your own grave, hence the protein shake and then I am going to bury you….alive.”

Greg was too shocked to reply, to do anything but stare at Duncan, his mind blank.  He seriously didn’t know what was worse anymore, drowning or buried alive?

“No.” Greg replied.

“This isn’t multichoice, I’m not giving you an option here.”  Duncan replied his eyes narrowing.

“I won’t.” Greg said.  He won’t, Duncan looked away his face smiling and turned back to Greg. He hand moved to his back and he reached out to Greg. 

“I think you will.”  Duncan replied and Greg closed his eyes in defeat as he was looking straight into the barrel of a gun.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

** I see you **

** Chapter 18 **

 

Mycroft was outwardly calm, but inside he was beyond jumpy, tonight was when everything must come to a point.  It has to, he don’t know if he can take another night like this or another day with the idea that somewhere out there Greg is fighting for his life, in fact has been losing it and getting it back a few times already.

He calculated the impact of no food and no water on the body for several days, and just the alcohol.  One bottle is about 750ml, which would make his total consumption of three or four times to 2,250ml or 3l.  That is a lot on an empty stomach, his muscles would start to contract, alcohol dehydrates, and he would start to get headaches, muscle cramps, no to mention the torture itself.  This will have lasting effects, most likely for a few years.  Mycroft took a calming breath, Greg will make it, he has to. 

The sound of an incoming call shook them all out of their thoughts.  It was Mycroft’s phone looking at the number he quickly picked it up

“Yes.”

Sherlock and John sat forward their attention on him.  Mycroft’s face looked lost some of the tight tension marks. It was good news, small but good.

“That’s good.  We are close, send the information to the Yard to meet us there, and try to narrow it down even further.”  Ending the call he turned to them

“Our technical team has narrowed the signal even further to a two locations in the Feltham County.  The one area is a use by the local county as a reserved park; the other is filled with farms.”

“So we need to check out the latter?”  John said, his voice filled with hope and the idea of a chase.  Mycroft nodded.

“Anthea is in charge of the team to do background checks on the farms and its history, we need to be sure, before we can just invade a place.  She will also notify Detective Dimmock and everyone involve to meet us there.”  Mycroft leaned back against the seat his eyes following the road out the flow of buildings and city, slowly being replaced by the country side. 

“It looks so peaceful.”  John muttered. 

“But in fact can be more dangerous than the city.”  Mycroft countered.  John turned to him with confusion.  Sherlock sighed and answered.

“No one to hear the screams, houses far from one another, each a blanket to the disturbance underneath.”    The car ride was silent after that, he was right, it was by pure chance that Mona was found, incredible luck or one hell of a chance.  Either way, it was her words, her help that allowed them the progress they have made.  They just all hope they were in time.

 

XXX

 

Greg was tired, his body aching, his shirt was ruined, the alcohol had soaked deep into the fibers along with sweat stains, yellowing his arms and collar.  Dried spatters of blood in different shades of red, all depending on how much the alcohol and water diluted it.  The rest was a different shade of brown from the ground.  His shirt was every colour except the original white.  His muscles were contracting and he had a hard time to fight from not crying out in pain with every move he made.

Besides the raw bruises and chaffing of his wrist, dried blood had made some scabs that hurt and stretch his skin with every move.  His hands are starting to get blisters.  He was digging his own grave.  He had no choice, yes he can refuse but that would just get him killed faster, and now that he was outside, he had to try to keep alive for as long as possible.  The longer he is alive, the better is his changes.  He had to find a way out of this, the question is just how.  Duncan must have a radio or mobile somewhere on him, he would not take him out here, even if it was his place, without someway to communicate.  He must just find an opening.  If one doesn’t happen, he just might have to make one himself.  The hole - Greg refused to call it a grave – was only about two feet deep and still not long enough.  There is absolutely no way he is going to dig a deep enough hole before the night is over.  That means that Duncan must have the means to do it, he is just prolonging the suffering and pain. 

Forcing the shovel in the ground, Greg used it as a clutched to lean against it, trying to get his breath under control.

“What are you doing?”  Duncan’s voice was low, dangerous.  Greg ignored it.

“I need to rest.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

“Pick up the shovel.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me tell you again detective.”

“Or what?  You’re going to kill me again?”  Greg replied with sarcasm.  Not ideal, but if he wants any chance to fight back he will need to get Duncan closer and the gun out of his hands. 

“You know what I’ve decided I am going to miss your snarky remarks, not nearly as much as your boyfriend is going to miss you, but then again, he just might be okay without you.”  Greg clenched his hands on the handle.

“Don’t talk about him.”   He growled out, his voice even more scratchy than before.  Duncan smiled in victory his words had hit home. Duncan stepped closer, the gun lowering slightly.

“Why?  Jealous much?  Or am I right in the conclusion that you are not important enough, I mean if he is so good, why haven’t he found you yet?  Unless he broke down seeing your dead body, or maybe he was finally glad to be rid of you.  Duncan was taunting him, and it was working.  He had to be strong, focused on finding a way out of this.

“I said shut up about him.”  Greg was angry, but right now his survival instincts are in full gear, if Duncan gets closer, close enough he can hit him with the shovel, maybe not enough to kill, but definitely enough to make some damage and hopefully buy him some time.  That’s all he need, time and a chance.  This may be the only chance he gets, so he needs it to work.  Sighing he lowered him body a little more on the shovel, pretending to be even more tired, it wasn’t an act, but the idea of having a fighting chance was filling him with hope and adrenalin.

Duncan stepped closer the gun slowly lowering as he moved.  Greg’s eyes didn’t leave him, biding his time.  The one thing about Duncan is, that when is so sure of himself and that he is going to kill you, he loses some of the arrogance and confidence about the situation.  This will be to Greg’s advantage. 

When Duncan was within arm’s distance Greg used all the strength he had to pull the shovel out the ground and hit Duncan.  Duncan was so surprised that he didn’t have a chance to raise the gun or get out of the way.  The shovel hit him on the side of his face, the impact twisted the gun out of his hands and he fell to the ground with a cry.  Greg dropped the shovel and tackled Duncan to the ground using his body as a weight.  His fist flew into Duncan face, and the impact on both sides of his face disorientated him enough to fall back, dazed.  Greg hands rested on Duncan’s chest when he felt something in the breast pocket of the jacket he wore.  He quickly reached in and pulled out a mobile phone.  With the gun in one hand and the phone in the other he got off Duncan, the gun leveled at him.  Duncan was still on the ground not knocked out, but close, dazed and dizzy, struggling to get up, there was blood running down his head, enough to disorientate him.  Greg held out the phone and between the torn blisters on his hand and mud he pressed the  buttons, it dialed.

“Who is this?”  The voice was calm and smoothed, etched with worry and suspicion but so familiar.  Greg wanted to cry. 

“My…” He managed out, his voice raw. 

“Gregory?” 

“Find me.”  Greg croaked out, his eyes on Duncan who by now was rolling to his stomach to get up on his knees, they were staring at each other.

“Where are you?” 

“Don’t know.  Trace this. I don’t have much time.” Greg cleared his throat but it was still to dry, he couldn’t even managed to get some saliva to try and clear it up.  Duncan slowly stood up.

“Stay down!”  He yelled at Duncan, the phone still online.

Duncan didn’t say anything, but the murder in his eyes was colder than the night, he smiled at Greg and the gun that slightly wavered in his hand.  He didn’t have the strength to keep it up and they both knew it.  This little excursion of Greg drained him of the last strength he had, he didn’t even had the strength to pull the trigger. 

“Gregory, stay with me.”  Mycroft’s voice sounded loud in the silence both men staring at each other.  Duncan took another step closer.

“Stay back.”  Greg tried to sound loud, but his voice was failing him.  Duncan smiled and stepped closer.

“You don’t have the strength to pull that trigger, and there’s no way your boyfriend is going to find you in time, so say your goodbyes.”  Greg just stared at him, his breathing uneven and swallow, his muscles were starting to cramp from holding the gun at arm’s length, it was getting more and more heavy. Sweat was running down his face down his back.  He wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer and Duncan knew that as well. It was really a case of waiting for him to collapse. 

“Gregory!”  Mycroft yelled over the phone but Greg was using all his strength to just keep standing,

“Answer me.”  Mycroft asked again, and Greg cleared his throat to talk, but his vision started to swam, the gun shaking more and more.  Duncan stepped even closer until the gun touched his chest.  With his face still full on smiling he grabbed the gun and twisted Greg’s arm sideways.  Greg hoarsely cried out as the bone in his arm broke in half.  Duncan forced him on his knees his other hand still clutching the phone.  Reaching over Duncan grabbed the phone. 

“Gregory!”  Mycroft’s voice was frantic over the phone.  Greg couldn’t answer as he lay on the ground, his right arm close to his chest.  Duncan brought the phone to his ear.

“Good evening.  ‘Gregory’ can’t come to the phone right now, and I don’t think later sounds good either.  I can do a message though, shall I tell him how much you love him before I kill him…again…which will definitely be the last time.”

“I will find you, and you will not survive, you have no idea who I am and what I am capable of.” 

“I would love to talk more, but I have some unfinished business with the detective.  Talk to you later.”  Duncan hangs up and dismantled the phone.  He looked towards Greg on the ground. 

“No message.”  He grabbed Greg by the collar and lifted him so Greg had to look at him. 

“I’m going to dig your grave; I need you to not try something again, so bye bye.”  Raising the gun he brought it down to Greg’s temple, knocking him out.  Greg fell to the ground out cold.

 

XXX

 

The silence in the car was broken when Mycroft’s phone rang.  He lifted his phone and frowned.

“It’s a private number.”

“One of yours?”  John asked.  Mycroft shook his head and answered.

“Who is this?”  He asked, smooth, calmed and full of suspicion.

 “My…”  Mycroft gasped and both Sherlock and John on the edge of their seats, their focus on Mycroft.

“Gregory?”  He asked the disbelief in his voice, he immediately pressed a button to put on his speaker.  Greg’s voice filled the car.

“Find me.” They could hear the pain in his voice, the rawness, the hoarseness. How on earth did he manage to find a phone?  They didn’t  asked.  It was Mycroft who talked.

“Where are you?”  The answer was quick and brief.

“Don’t know.  Trace this. I don’t have much time.”  They could hear the rustiness in his voice.  Something must have happened in the background, what it was they couldn’t hear as Greg’s voice was trying to be loud and strong, but he failed.

“Stay down!”  The three men looked at each other, Sherlock on his phone to Anthea to trace the call.  It sounded that somehow Greg managed to get the upper hand, but it wasn’t strong or going to last.  He needed to find Greg and soon.  Most importantly he needed to calm him down.

“Gregory, stay with me.”  Mycroft tried the worry in his voice.   He could hear something in the background as Greg was talking to someone else.

“Stay back.”  Greg’s voice was failing him more, as his voice harsh and before anyone could do anything another voice came over the phone and the tone lowered the entire atmosphere in the car.

“You don’t have the strength to pull that trigger, and there’s no way your boyfriend is going to find you in time, so say your goodbyes.” 

Mycroft breath caught in his throat, his hand clenches the phone tighter, he could feel Sherlock’s hand on his wrist but he couldn’t act on it.  Duncan, the man who took Gregory. The man who killed him and wants to kill him again.  Mycroft was losing his composure.

“Gregory!”  Mycroft yelled over the phone but no one answered, whatever is happening, Gregory wasn’t answering.

“Answer me.”  Mycroft asked again, but there still wasn’t an answer.  He leaned closer into the phone as if he could climb into it. He could hear movement but no one talked, then the silence was broken by the sound of a crack and then the cry of Greg.  Sherlock’s hand tightened on Mycroft’s wrists.  They could hear some commotion then silence.

“Gregory!”  Mycroft’s voice was frantic over the phone.  There was silence then his voice came over the phone. His composure gone.  Duncan hurt Greg, most likely broke his arm.

“Good evening.   _Gregory_  can’t come to the phone right now, and I don’t think later sounds good either.  I can do a message though, shall I tell him how much you love him before I kill him…again…which will definitely be the last time.”  Mycroft was furious, he was beyond angry.  His voice was cold, to the point.

“I will find you, and you will not survive, you have no idea who I am and what I am capable off.”  There was a moment of silence before Duncan replied.

“I would love to talk more, but I have some unfinished business with the detective.  Talk to you later.”  The line went dead and the silence was much worse than before.  Sherlock’s phone beeped and he opened it.

“Anthea’s got us a location, ten minutes from here.” 

“Good.” Mycroft replied.  He leaned back and turned to John.

“If you get a chance, don’t shoot to kill, I have plans.”

John didn’t answer; he turned to Sherlock who was watching his brother with wide eyes. 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft settles a score

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter! I wanted to cut in half but decided against it, you all waited too long for the saving part.

** I see you **

** Chapter 19 **

 

It was the sound of a low rumble that woke Greg, he tried to move, but it hurt too much.  His muscles were aching, cramping with every move.   With his eyelids flickering he tried to open his eyes.  His lashes stuck to his lids, because of the dried blood.  His head was pounding, dehydration and a whack to the side of the skull with a gun is not really a good idea. 

Through the small slits in his eyes he looked around him.  He grimaced, he couldn’t see the land around him, in fact he could only see ground, and looking up his heart skipped a beat.  He was in a hole, using his sleeves he tried to open his eyes but found he couldn’t move his hands.  He leaned closer to his hands; it was bound again ,  this time to some pipe.   The pain was excruciating, Duncan didn’t care for the fact that his arm was broken, oh no, the rope was cutting into the raw flesh, bleeding again and the swelling didn’t help. His right hand was red and the fingertips turning blue.   There was a rounded hook and his rope was running through it.   He was on his knees, the hole not so high but the pipe prevented him from standing up.  The rumble stopped and that’s when heard it, silence.  There was a chill in the air and it was more than just the fact that he was in a hole, it is going to rain.  That’s all he needs more water.

“ Oh you are awake.”  Greg looked up to see Duncan at the edge, he looked a bad, and he didn’t even try to wipe the blood from his face.  He wished he knew how long he was unconscious for, and whether Mycroft would find him in time.  Greg didn’t reply, instead he just stared at Duncan, when the first drop fall in his face. 

 

XXX

 

By the time the car arrived at the farm it was raining, not a heavy thunderstorm, but a drizzle that can still cause some damage in their pursuit, especially if someone is outside in the open.  The car didn’t even stop at the gate and went straight through the driveway; John took out his gun and double checked to make sure it was loaded.   Sherlock was on the edge of his seat as he looked out.  There was an old house in the distance but what attracted them was the garage next to some trees, there was a light shining, and the door was open.   The car stopped in front of the open door, they jumped out and walked closer. Mycroft held back his eyes on the ground and the tracks.  They didn’t even care about the rain.  Mycroft’s umbrella was in his hand, his hands clenching around the handle. 

Something was here not so long ago and someone was dragged out and from the marks he was loaded onto a truck or something, and drove off into the tree line.  He watched his brother and John go into the room, he knew what was the room Mona describe, bare and tiled floor.  The “Oh Jesus” comment of John clarified that.  Mycroft didn’t go in, Gregory wasn’t in there.  He clenched his umbrella tighter, his eyes narrowed into the trees, he stepped closer, listening for anything before he ran off.  He was tall and a jogger, running on a treadmill for miles per day, running to lose weight, running without an purpose, but right now, he had purpose.  

 

XXX

 

Sherlock and John stared at the tub, water puddles still everywhere, some parts clean and other parts pink with blood.  There was nothing, not a bottle or wrapper, just plumbing, a tub and water.  Not even a window.  The only new thing was their footprints as they stepped inside.  The rain and mud was making clear impressions on the floor. This is where Greg was held, where he drowned, where he was killed.

John lowered his gun and Sherlock stepped to the tub, peering inside.  He may not have been on the case from the beginning, but the fact that Greg knew what this man was without any proof or conviction, just his gut feeling made Sherlock respect him even more than what he already did.  Greg was – is – an extraordinary man and Sherlock wanted to find him alive, and have a moment with Duncan. 

Well, he will just have to get in line, because Mycroft without a doubt is in front of the line.  Speaking of which…  Sherlock spun around.

“Mycroft?”  John turned around and saw there was no one; he turned to Sherlock with a question in his eyes before they both walked back into the rain. 

“Mycroft!”  Sherlock yelled but there was no answer. 

“Where did your brother go?”  Sherlock stepped to the front of the car, the lights was shining in the path, the water making small puddles in the truck tracks and Mycroft’s footprints.   Sherlock jumped to the car, opening the door.  He looked to the driver.

“When the police come, direct them into the right path, call Anthea.  And give me your spare gun.”  The driver nodded and handed over the weapon, already calling Anthea as instructed.  Sherlock turned to John.

“Come on” 

Together they ran off into the trees after Mycroft. 

 

XXX

 

Mycroft ran straight where Greg was, he knew it.  It was about a mile into the trees when he saw the light in the distant, it was the truck.  As he got nearer he saw it was a small and narrow path for the truck, not easily found.  The trees gave way to some clearing and he stopped behind the trees.  Duncan was standing looking down and Mycroft realized that it was the grave, the grave for Gregory.  Looking around he saw the small backhoe loader and the heap of sand next to Duncan.  Mycroft’s eyes flashed anger, the blood boiling in his veins.  This man is going to die, tonight.  He had plans for him, oh he had some very interesting plans for him, but that went out the window when he made Greg dug his own grave, when he broke Greg’s arm and most importantly threw him down a hole. 

The only question is will he kill him slowly or quickly.  Straightening his back he walked over towards Duncan, the rain making the perfect cover, not that Mycroft cared, he had training for this.   He walked and then stopped.  Duncan was still standing with his back to him, talking to Greg.

“You know it is a shame you didn’t say goodbye when you had a chance, your boyfriend really sounded worried over the phone.”

The rain washed most of the grime and blood from Greg’s face and the water had parched some his thirst.  His throat was still sore, but the dry scratch was a bit better. 

“He will find you, and he will make you regret this.”  Mycroft felt the stab of pride in his chest and smiled.  Greg didn’t doubt him, not for one moment.

“I don’t think so.”  Duncan was too arrogant for his own good and Mycroft was sick of it, time for play is over.

“You thought wrong.”  His voice was clear through the air; the rain didn’t even made a dent in the strong sound.  Greg couldn’t stopped himself, as tears of joy starting running down his face, Mycroft is here, he will be okay.  He just has to hold on for one more moment.   Duncan stared at Greg and then slowly turned around.  His eyes found Mycroft and he couldn’t deny that Mycroft cut one hell of an intimidating figure.  He stood tall, the rain falling off him in streams as if they wanted to run away from him as well.  His three piece suit was soaked through, the umbrella clutched in both hands.

“You must be the boyfriend.”  Duncan replied, the smile still on his face.  Mycroft didn’t move a muscle.  His eyes were cold like the glittering steel from a knife. Greg tried to move to the edge, but couldn’t.  He could hear Mycroft but wasn’t able to see him. Only Duncan, he look towards the pipe and started to kick it. If Mycroft was nearby, Sherlock must be too, he needed to fight back.  The mud and water wasn’t making it easier but it did allow him to loosen the pipe somewhat. 

“Get. Away. From. My. Gregory.”  Greg looked up when he heard Mycroft, although he couldn’t see anything his heart skipped a beat. 

“Your Gregory? Oh jealous are we?”  Duncan smiled back and turned his head slightly to Greg.

“I’m going to enjoy hurting your little boyfriend.” 

Greg growled.

“Your funeral.  You should walk away when you still can.”  Greg replied the pipe more loose now, it was freed about six inches, and he could stand a bit straighter and see more.  He could see past Duncan now, but not further. 

“You should listen to him, although the time to walk away has long gone.”  Mycroft said and both Greg and Duncan felt a shiver at the cold tone.  Greg closed his eyes, Mycroft is out for blood, and he knew he had it in him, you don’t get to his position and not have casualties along the way, and Greg just wished he wasn’t the cause that Mycroft got to that point again.  With renew effort he pushed the pain away, forcing his muscles to work and get him free, he can rest later, he can cry later, he can be alive later, right now he just needed to survive, help Mycroft and go home. 

“I’m not afraid of you.”  Duncan replied and stepped closer.  Mycroft did the same.  As he did he pushed his umbrella into the ground and removed his jacket, looking at Duncan he rested it on top of the handle, the edges of the jacket falling into the mud.  Still staring at Duncan he removed his cufflinks and put it in his trouser pocket.

“And that is your downfall.”  Mycroft knew exactly what Duncan was thinking, what his moves was before he makes them so when Duncan raised the gun to shoot, he moved forward and pushed Duncan’s arm up in the air, the bullet going straight into the air, it broke the silence and Greg froze. 

“Mycroft!”  He yelled, fear and worry gripping him tight as he used every last bit of strength to kick the pipe loose.  It fell clear in the mud and Greg stood up, looking for his partner. 

What he saw will forever be ingrained into his memory, Duncan and Mycroft was fighting, hand to hand combat and Duncan was loosing.  Mycroft was precise in his movements, the suit did nothing to hinder him, it moved with him. 

Duncan may have had strength, but Mycroft had speed and agility and sheer determination. 

 

XXX

 

Sherlock nearly tripped as the shot rang out.  John grabbed his hand.  They looked at each other, eyes wide.   One bullet: Mycroft?  Greg?  Duncan?  With a nod they continued running to the noise. They break through the clearing and stopped.  Mycroft was fighting; Mycroft-I-detest-legwork was beating the hell out of Duncan.  John stood as if he became statue, he was impressed, and the skills Mycroft showed were top.  Sherlock rarely saw his brother in action, and was mesmerized.  He deleted the thought that he should get in line to have a moment with Duncan.  The line started and ended with Mycroft. He could see it in his brother; he was tiring him out, before he killed him.  His eyes fell towards the ground and to Greg.  Greg was trying to get out of some hole, making his mind up he handed the gun to John and ran to Greg. 

 

 

Greg was struggling to get out, the mud didn’t allow his weak body to grip and he couldn’t get out.  The adrenalin was nearly gone, the pipe was heavy in his hand, the right one even more swollen, and most of his fingers were blue now.  Sherlock stopped and slipped in the mud. 

“Sherlock.”  Greg hoarsely cried out.  Sherlock tried to grab him but Greg pushed him away.

“No. Mycroft… Help Mycroft… please...”  

John turned to follow Sherlock as he ran to Greg but stopped halfway, he needed to keep an eye on Mycroft and Duncan, provide help if he must, he wanted to look Greg over, be the doctor he was trained to be, but right now he needed to be the soldier first.  Sherlock ignored him and using a pocket knife he cut the rope around Greg’s wrist, before he wrapped his arms around Greg’s chest.  His face was next to Greg as he replied.

“Mycroft can take care of himself, he will be okay.”  Greg clung to Sherlock as he drags him out, Sherlock didn’t relinquish his hold on Greg, and instead he sat down his legs stretched out, before he pulled Greg close against his chest.  They watched the two men fight.  John was close his arm straight out, with his gun waiting for an opening.  Greg clutched Sherlock’s sleeve.  He wanted this to be over; he wanted John to shoot Duncan or Mycroft to knock him out. Anything, to be honest, he just wanted for this to be over.  He is not sure how long he could hold on. 

It was if Mycroft knew, Greg was losing his battle to stay awake and when Duncan came at him, he twisted his body so that he could get Duncan in a stronghold, his arms around his neck.  He leaned a bit backward so that Duncan’s face was towards the sky, his mouth open and oxygen restricted.  The water falling in his face, in his mouth and he couldn’t stop it, or close his mouth.  He was choking.  Mycroft tighten his hold and turned his face.

“I had such plans for you, but I am going to let you die here, choking on air, which you took from others, and no one will give it back to you.  You should’ve left Gregory alone.”  Mycroft tightens his grip a bit more, it was close.  The water was choking him, along with Mycroft’s arm around his neck.  Mycroft could feel Duncan’s body slowing down as the oxygen in his blood lessened, he could feel Duncan’s pulse weaken, and his heart little by little holding back on its beats until it stops.  Duncan’s arms fell listlessly by his sides, his body lax.

Mycroft counted to twenty to make sure he was in fact dead when he stood up and released his hold.  Duncan fell to the ground in the mud; the water splattering around his body, against Mycroft’s already soaked trousers. 

 

Taking a breath he ran towards Greg who struggled to get up.  His hand let go of Sherlock’s sleeve and reach out to Mycroft.  Mycroft fell to his knees in front of Greg and pulled him close, his arms wrapping around Greg in a tight grip.  Greg did the same, he buried his head in Mycroft’s neck his broken arm, hanging loose to his side, his other around Mycroft.  John stood to the side watching this interaction.  Mycroft just killed a man in cold blood, and now he was holding Greg as if he is never planning on letting go.  He went from ice cold killer to warm and emotional in less than a heartbeat.  Sherlock was watching it as well, his face open to the emotions he didn’t even tried to hide. 

Mycroft didn’t loosen his hold on Greg as he slowly sat down on the ground.  Greg was safe in his arms as they sat.  Sherlock stood up, his eyes drifting to Duncan lying dead in the mud, the rain still falling in his face, his eyes open; he looked back to his brother. 

Mycroft turned his face so his mouth was next to Greg’s ear.

“I’m so sorry it took me this long.”

Greg shook his head as he cried.  His body shaking as his tears mixed with the rain. 

“I knew you’d find me.  I held on, knew you were coming.” Mycroft knew Greg was close to passing out, his heart was slowing and his grip was slacking. 

“Always.”  He still held him close as Greg passed out in his arms.

That’s how the ambulance and police found them five minutes later; Greg safely in Mycroft’s arms, Mycroft holding him tight with Sherlock and John standing behind them.  Watching, guarding over them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know John wanted to be the doctor he needed for Greg, but I wanted Sherlock to find him, John is the soldier, making sure the danger is over before helping.


	20. Chapter 20

** I see you **

** Chapter 20 **

 

For two days Greg was unconscious, drifting in and out, without a really knowing what was happening.  His body was badly dehydrated.  On top of that, he had a mild concussion with four stitches on the side of his face.  His hands and wrists were bandaged, his right arm in a splint, and they can’t put a cast on, while his rope burns haven’t healed yet. 

He had a few bruises, although the main concern was the lasting effects of the alcohol in his system, the dehydration  and the rope burns on his wrists, they are trying to keep a look out for infections.  Mycroft didn’t left his side, he would spend as much time as possible with Greg, his ears tuned on his heart monitor, and his heart beat. 

It was a full week before Greg was strong enough to walk for some distance, down the corridors of the hospital, his body was still weak, and the doctor prescribed slow but daily physical activities to strengthen his muscles. 

Mycroft had to go back to work during most days and everyone could see how it affected Greg, he would become more jumpy, more alert when Mycroft wasn’t there. He would only relax when the man stepped through the hospital doors.  He tried he really did, but he was scared to be alone, he put on a brave face but when of his friends of colleagues weren’t with him, he was shaking. 

Greg looked around the room; there were flowers everywhere, from friends and family from colleagues and even a few from the parents of the girls that have been killed.  After Greg was found an entire sweep of the farm was made, especially the clearing where Greg was held and they discovered the bodies of all the girls.  Some badly decomposed, but it was them, they were neatly arranged next to each other, all of them next to a tree, except Greg.  His grave was dug right in front of them, the first one to see, they all knew it was because Greg was the trophy so to speak, and the first one to take him and lost – well that was the plan anyway. 

Greg wanted to go home, he would be safe here, but until he made enough progress and they can place a cast on his wrist, he couldn’t.  That and the fact that he struggled to eat, and sleep and bath... there was a few other problems and he was assigned to a therapist.  It was mandatory and arranged by the Yard.  Greg refused to speak to him.  Mycroft suggested that he sees a private one, but he hasn’t agreed yet. 

He leaned back in the bed, careful not to dislodge the IV line, he was bored.  A few books were stacked on the table next to him, but he didn’t want to read. His phone was fully charged next to him as well, but he didn’t want to bother anyone, they are busy, and it’s not like he can text Mycroft, John or Sherlock to say he was scared to be alone. 

He didn’t dare to put the TV on, his kidnapping and case was still all over the news, the  **“cop who survived a serial killer** _”_ no thank you. 

Getting up he decided on walking around the hospital, maybe go to the court yard, he wasn’t allowed to smoke, but the outside would do him good.  Putting on his slippers he started to walk out of the room, down the hallway, some nurses would look his way, but otherwise they continued with their work.  Once at the courtyard he found the most secluded spot and the one with the most sunshine and sat down on a small bench.   He wasn’t aware for how long he sat there as he closed his eyes and basked in the sun, he couldn’t shake the cold since the abduction, and he knows it was in his mind but he couldn’t shake it.

He was aware that someone was standing next to him and he slowly opened his eyes.  Mycroft was standing there, his umbrella in his hand, and a packet with some food.

“The nurses told me I could find you here.”  Greg nodded and stood up, Mycroft placed the bag in his other hand as he help Greg up.

“Yeah, the room gets a bit much, and the sun is nice.” Greg replied and Mycroft could feel his skin was warm from the sun, yet he had small goose bumps over his skin.  They made their way to his room.

“When can I go home?” Greg asked when he was safely back in bed.  Mycroft removed the small box from the package, seeing the boyish smile he returned it and handed Greg the small plastic fork and the near black chocolate cake slice to him.

“Thanks.”  Greg replied and started eating.

“In a few days, you still haven’t agreed to see someone.”  Mycroft said as he sat back.

“I’m already seeing you.”  Greg voice was flippant, joking and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

“I wanna go home, I want to close my bedroom door and lay in my bed, with my pillow, with my stuff laying around with you in my arms, this....”  his arms waved around the room. A small crumb fell down the fork; Greg was getting better and holding utensils in his left hand.

“....im tired of this.” 

Mycroft took his left hand with the fork and sat next to him on the bed.  His other arm around his shoulders.  Greg leaned into his space and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

“I want to be home with you.”

Mycroft could understand it, he longed for it too.  Pulling away he cupped Greg’s cheek and kissed him.  Greg kissed him back, the taste of chocolate still on his lips.  Mycroft pulled away and rested his forehead against Greg’s.

“I’ll see what I can do.”  Greg’s smiled got wider and his eyes shone brightly as the lump in Mycroft’s throat got bigger, he was so close to losing him, to never see this smile again, to get lost in those eyes, he never knew there was so many shades of honey and brown and gold in the world.

“Thanks Love, I’ll start packing.”  Mycroft didn’t even try to discourage him; they both know Mycroft would succeed in getting him home.  Truth be told, he was just as glad, he hasn’t had a good night’s rest, without Greg by his side, he would check the hospital twice during the night to make sure Greg was still there, still safe.  He knows the routine of every nurse like the back of his hand.  He was having nightmares as well, and most likely will have to talk to someone as well, but having Greg home would improve his mental state tremendously.

 

True to his word, the next day, Greg was released under supervision to go home.  His wrists were much better, but had a temporary cast on, one he could remove for a few hours so the wounds, wouldn’t get septic.  John stated that he would be by twice a day to change the dressings and anything else he could find a doctor excuse for.  Sherlock and Mycroft knew it was partly true; he wanted to keep an eye on Greg and since John would be there twice a day, so would Sherlock.  Mycroft decided to move into Greg’s flat, just to help Greg during the night and mornings, when John wasn’t there. Just like John, everyone knew it was an excuse.  Greg may need help but he was by no means a bed ridden invalid.  Greg didn’t mind.  He welcomed the company.  He walked through his home, Mycroft had arranged that it be cleaned and every trace of the case and Duncan was removed from the walls.  Greg walked into the kitchen, opening cupboards and the fridge as he went along, he wasn’t looking for anything, and he just reacquainted himself with his place, until he opened the cupboard where his mugs were.

“Love?”  He asked and Mycroft stepped into the kitchen his eyes fell on the new mugs.  He closed his eyes as the memories of that night come back.  Sherlock and John followed, both curios, Sherlock was on good behavior as he didn’t even pull a face when Greg called Mycroft ‘love’.  His brother came close to never being balled ‘love’ again, to have someone who loved him like the way Greg loved him.  He may not have an excuse like Mycroft and John to be near Greg, to check up on him, but throughout the years he did manage to build enough of a reputation, so that he doesn’t need one.  He can use John as an excuse, an experiment or just boredom, they would know the real reason, but they will pretend with him.  Sherlock watched the emotions across his brother’s face, and remember how he held his brother as his legs gave way.  He remembers that look on his face as Mycroft watched that video, the utter devastation and despair.  He jumped in.

“I used it for an experiment.  John banned me from using ours and Mycroft would happily replace yours instead of ours.”  Greg looked at Sherlock, the lie evident, even more so on his partner’s face.  He played along.

“It better not be been mould.”  Sherlock face twitched, he knew Greg saw thought the lie, and was glad he fall in, they needed some sort of normalcy back.

“Fungus and mushrooms.”  He replied and walked out the kitchen.  John shrugged and followed him.  Greg wanted to say something, but then the doorbell rang and all four were on high alert.

“I made it clear to the Yard, no visitors today.”  Mycroft said to no one.  Sherlock looked at John who nodded, his hand moving to the back of his jeans.  Greg rolled his eyes, or wanted to, but he was just so glad, he wasn’t alone.  Sherlock opened the door.  Seeing who it was he opened it fully.

“Miss. Stephens didn’t expect you.”  Greg turned to Mycroft the question in both their eyes, he walked towards the door.  Mona saw him and her face lit up.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, can I come in?”  Greg smiled.

“Yeah sure.  How can I help?”  Sherlock stepped away and she walked in, looking much better than before, she was holding a gift bag.

“I’m not staying long, I just... Well I wanted to see that you are okay, and to thank you.”   She no that she had the attentions of all four men, she was bit shy.  Greg noticed her nervousness and stepped closer.  He held out his hand to take hers and she grabbed his hand.

Her eyes locked to the bandages around his wrists, but didn’t say anything, she didn’t have too, hers were the same.

“Mona?”  She looked up at him, blushing as she was caught staring at his wounds.

“Sorry, it just, it will hardly leave a scar, yet that’s not the scar that hurts the most.” Her voice was soft, Greg swallowed.

“I want to thank you, for not giving up, Mr. Holmes and his brother explained how you were on to him, even before I was taken, that you knew he was dangerous, even thought no one else could.  I’m sorry you got hurt in the process and that he did that to you...” Her voice faltered as tears pooled in her eyes.

“He did the same to you, you survived first, and you didn’t give up first.”  Greg replied, his voice just as heavy. 

She nodded the other men looked at her and Greg, they knew this was an intimate movement, but neither had the will to walk away.   She looked down before she turned back to him.

“I was going to be a lawyer, didn’t want to be, and hated the idea.” 

Greg frowned.

“You said was.”

“I don’t know about you, but when I was in the room and the darkness, I kept thinking, a lot of stuff actually, but one thing stood out, and that was how I always wanted to be a nurse.  Even as child, my parents are lawyers and has a family business, so they expected me to do it, but lying there... I didn’t want to die, knowing I would never be able to help people, to do what I wanted.  So I promised myself that if I make it, I will not only do what I always wanted to do, but I will live.  I will show him, he didn’t won, he didn’t scare me, even thought I’m terrified.  I still have nightmares, I’m still scared of a man looking at me, I’m still scared of water, but I will not be scared of him.  I know he is dead, and he can’t hurt me, but somehow I owe it to myself... you know...to let the warmth back in. To walk with my head held high even though I’m being held together with duct tape and tears.”    The others looked down, they never expected her to say something so beautiful and true, and they all knew exactly what she meant, even more so, was Greg.  Tears were falling from his eyes as he looked at her, and then walked over to her, hugging her tight.  She held back just as tight as he did.  Mycroft tried his best to swallow the lump back, but he couldn’t.  She was right, he could see it, Greg was scared too, he refused to bath, he refused to be in the bathroom for long periods of time, he was always cold and he was still having nightmares. 

He slowly let her go.

“You know... I may have been on the case, but you were the breakthrough, you were the turning point because of you, there are six families, who finally after years of searching, wondering, hoping for news, who can have closure.  They can put their loved ones to peace, they may not be alive, but they will have closure, the search and the doubt can finally ease into closure, and that is because of you, so you may not have been a nurse, but you did help people.”  Mona smiled, her tears drying on her cheeks.  Mycroft had never felt as much pride as he did in that moment.  Greg, even with his own demons, was helping another.

“But I am going to be a nurse.”  She smiled and straightening her back.  She reaches into the gift bag and held out a small stuffed monkey, it was old, but in good condition, it had a small makeshift bandage on the arm, and a plaster above its head.

“This is Willow, she was mine.  I practiced on her.”  She held it out to Greg who took it, a smile on his face.

“Mona.”

“I quit law school and start my new course next semester.  I’m going to be nurse.  I don’t care what my parents say, I promised myself if I make it I will live, and I will live stronger than before, my life, my dreams.”   Greg held the monkey close. 

“Thank you.”  He whispered.  She leaned closer and kissed his cheek.

“No.  Thank you.”  Pulling back she handed the empty gift bag to Greg. 

“I have to go.  I have an appointment, apparently I should talk about my feeling...See you all around.”  She walked to the door then turned around, she walked towards Mycroft and hugged him, and he was so shocked he didn’t move.

“Thank you for keeping your promise.”  She whispered to him, before she let go and walked out leaving four men in the room, three shocked and one changed.  Sherlock looked at Greg and his brother and knew they wanted to be alone for a while, he can help with that.

The moment was broken by Sherlock clearing his throat.

“Well, as much as I love to stay I need a new suit, as mine got ruined in the rain, Mycroft, you’re paying.”  Mycroft turned to his brother, knowing what Sherlock is doing.   He smiled. He walked to the front door and opened it.  Sherlock passed his and gave him a wink.

“Of course, I did arrange that they should be on the look out for you, maybe you should replace John’s suit as well.”

“I wasn’t wearing a suit.”  John interrupted.  Mycroft smiled and Sherlock replied.

“A tux maybe?”  Mycroft turned to his brother.

“One should always have a suit available.”

“Never know when it can come in handy.”

“Exactly.”

“Like a special function.”

“Celebration yes.”

“Matching tie and braces?”

“I’m thinking silver and gold, with blue or brown...”

“Of course you are.”  The two brothers stared at one another, both with a smiled.  Sherlock turned to John.

“When was the last time you wore braces.”

“Harriet’s wedding.  Why?”

“No reason. Come on.”  Mycroft watched as they walked away, John already asking questions.”  

 

They spend the rest of the day in silence, only talking when necessary, Greg fell asleep on the sofa, and his head in Mycroft’s lap, every time it looked as though he would get a nightmare, Mycroft ran his fingers through his hair and whispered to him.  John and Sherlock didn’t return that night, it was okay.  Mycroft knew what he needed to do with Greg’s wounds, he has had training.  They ordered in and after dinner Greg declared he was going to take a shower.  Mycroft promised to put the dishes in the dishwasher and joined him in a moment. 

Mycroft stood in the kitchen, his eyes on the new mugs.  He should tell Greg.  He tilted his head; he hasn’t heard the water running.  With delicate steps he walked to the en suite bathroom and stopped in the doorway.  Greg was in his underwear, the bathtub was half full and he poured in some bubble bath, Mycroft knew to cover the water.

“Gregory?”  He asked softly.  Greg turned around.

“She was right; the best way to move on is not to show him he won. I....want...need to move on... I don’t want to be afraid of a bath My... I don’t want to be scared anymore.” Greg’s voice was trembling. 

“I broke all your mugs.”  Mycroft blurted out.  Greg frowned. 

“It was when he sent the video, the police and everyone was here and I needed to be busy, I needed a moment so I went to the kitchen, I made tea.  The video came through and I watched what he did to you, I collapsed.  The tray with the mugs, filled with coffee and tea it fell, it shattered and Sherlock caught me.  I switched off; I woke up seven hours later in your bed, Sherlock looking after me.”  His voice was shaking.

“My... I didn’t want you to see that, I tried to stop him.”  Greg took a step to him and Mycroft pulled him closer, holding as tight as he could.

“I know.  I made tea, when he killed you, I’m afraid of tea, of making tea, I keep thinking about how I made tea, and you died.  I’m scared too and I don’t want to be scared either... she was right... but we have to start somewhere.”  Mycroft allowed a tear to slide down his face. 

“We can overcome this. Together.”  Mycroft just nodded.  He looked to the bath. 

“How about we start with the bath, together, and then we can make tea, together?”  Greg nodded through his tears.

“Yeah, I’d like that... and then I will make an appointment, to talk to someone.”

Mycroft slowly undressed and eyed the bath, the emotions on Greg’s face, and the small goose bumps on his skin.  When he was naked he took the first step and climbed into the bath, the water was perfect.  He sat down his legs outstretched and leaning against the wall, he held out his hand.

“I’ll hold you.”  Greg took off his underwear and with his hand in Mycroft’s he took the first step into the bath, the bubbles encircling his calf as he got in, and slowly sat down, his back against Mycroft chest.  Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg’s torso.

“I got you.”  Mycroft hold Greg and noticed that for the first time in days, the goosebumps slowly disappearing on his shin, he let the warmth in.  Mona was right, Duncan didn’t win, and he will not make them afraid to live.

 


End file.
